The Tombstone
by KeikoHPfan
Summary: A tombstone in a small cemetery, on a rainy day, after the war. Harry and Draco meet again... DH compliant, except for the epilogue. Will be slash. Rated M to be on the safe side.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Mild violence

**AN :** English is not my mother-tongue... And this is my first HP story. Reviews would be nice!

If only... If only he had done something. Anything. Or said something. But it's too late, isn't it? Too late for regrets. Too late for remorse. There is no use in dwelling on things that never would be. The man is dead, and there is nothing left to do. The tombstone is beautiful, as black and shiny as his eyes had been, with carved silvery letters. _Severus Snape_.

Harry sighs quietly, shivering under the light rain. Snape. The man had been so brave, so selfless, and so lonely. Harry himself had hated him so much, all these years, he had been so convinced that Dumbledore had been wrong about the dark professor. But he had been right, in the end. Severus Snape had been loyal to the Light. So loyal that he had let himself be despised, loathed, hated. So loyal that he had been ready to die. Harry could not fathom what kind of lonely life Snape had experienced. No family, no friends, except maybe for Albus Dumbledore.

Harry can still remember his eyes, at the very end. Boring into his, pleading for warmth, for understanding, for love. Longing for Lily, the long-lost friend, the only fond memory. And Harry had not known what to say, or what to do, to ease the pain that had been so clear in those black eyes. Maybe there had not been anything to do. Maybe it had been enough just to let him drown in the green eyes that were so much like Lily's – even if the face was so much like James', the chilhood arch-enemy. Snape had never forgiven Harry for that – he looked too much like his father. Snape had never been able to look at Harry without seeing James. Until the end- and then he had seen Lily, not Harry.

"I think he liked you."

Harry looks up to see Draco Malfoy, standing a few feets away, looking straight at him, all grey eyes and pale skin and fragile features.

"I mean, in his own way. He... respected you, at the very least."

Malfoy's silver-blond hair is plastered all around his face, and Harry can see that the pointy git is not so pointy anymore, in fact. The blond cocks his head to the right, and seems to be searching for something in Harry's eyes before he speaks again.

"He protected you, you know.

-Yeah.

-And he protected me, too. Not that there was much to do about my stupidity, at the time. But he tried anyway.

-Yes.

-But there was no one to protect him, was it?

-No. There wasn't.

-I'm glad you were with him. When he died. He didn't deserve to die alone.

-He didn't deserve to die. He was a fucking hero. It's not fair.

-Life is not fair, Harry."

Harry looks up again, but there is no malice in Malfoy's expression, just sadness. Malfoy moves suddenly, and stands beside Harry, facing the dark tombstone. Harry absently notes that he's still smaller than the other young man, as he was as a teenager. Nothing is said for a long time, and then Harry begins to feel a bit awkward, standing here in the rain with Draco Malfoy, of all people.

"You called me Harry" he blurts out, stupidly. Malfoy snorts, and bits his lower lip.

"Why?" Harry asks, because he has to.

"Because we changed, didn't we? Potter and Malfoy were the kids in Hogwarts. I don't want to go back there. Do you?

-No.

-Good. Will you call me Draco, then?

-Maybe. I don't know. Why didn't you tell your father that it was me, that day at the Manor? I know you recognized me, I saw it in your eyes.

-I couldn't. You were the bloody Savior. Our only hope to end this nightmare. My only hope to survive and to protect my mother. I couldn't. And... I knew what they would have done to you. What the Dark Lord would have done to you. I was a selfish prat and a coward, but I was no monster, despite what you may think."

There is bitterness in his voice, and some other emotion that Harry cannot define.

"I never thought you were" Harry says softly. "A monster, I mean. Because you were a selfish prat and a coward. And a conceited and spoiled git, too." He smirks at Draco, and the grey eyes shine with amusement, and Harry is strangely relieved to see it.

"But, Mal-Draco... You were mostly a misguided child. We were all children. And I don't think I understand what it was like to grow up with your father, but I do believe you did not really have a choice, back then. I mean… I can understand why you did the things you did."

Silence falls over them, again, and this time it's comfortable. This time it's okay, just to stay here. After a few minutes, though, Malfoy – no, Draco – shifts from foot to foot beside Harry, stealing glances beneath pale eyelashes.

"Spill it, Draco.

-I'm cold.

-Me too.

-Do you… I mean… " Draco looks suddenly shy, and younger, with his cheeks slightly pink and his soaked cloak. He takes a deep breath and steels himself. "Do you want to have a drink with me? In Hogsmead? I don't know you, but I would like to dry a bit, and…

-Okay. The Three Broomsticks?

-Hum, better not. I don't think that Rosmerta would be delighted to see me. I apologized last year, but, yeah.

-The Hog's Head it is, then. I'd love to see Abelforth again, anyway."

Draco does not answer, and they walk side by side out of the small Hogwarts cemetery, where so many of their friends are buried.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Mild violence

**AN :** Here comes chapter 2! R&R please!

The old pub is exactly the same as Harry remembers it from school: dark, quiet and dirty. Abelforth is nowhere to be seen when they get in, so they just remove theirs cloaks and choose a table next to the fireplace. Two old witches are sitting in the far corner of the room, drinking something dark that looks like very thick coffee in very small glasses. Draco and Harry sit down on rickety chairs, and Harry almost expects Draco to make a rude remark about the shabby pub, but he just sighs with contentment while stretching his long legs under the table, apparently enjoying the warmth of the room. Harry is surprised to see that the blonde wears worn-out shoes, and that his dark green shirt is missing a button.

"Butterbeer? I'll just pick them in the backroom, Abelforth is a friend.

-Yes, please."

It must be the first time that he hears Draco Malfoy say "please", Harry muses as he makes his way to the backroom. Draco has not moved at all when he comes back and sets the two bottles on the disgusting table – how it can be that sticky is beyond him, frankly. Draco nods a bit stiffly and takes a cautious sip, and Harry struggles to find a safe topic – what the hell are they supposed to speak about, now? He's so busy thinking of something to say that he nearly chokes on his butterbeer when he hears Draco's quiet voice.

"I was quite surprised to see you alone. Where are Granger and Weasley? And the Weasley girl?

-Probably at The Burrow, since it's Sunday.

-Should you not be with them?

-Should you not be with your mother?" Harry spats, a bit annoyed. He doesn't want to talk about them. He doesn't want to even think about them, most of the time. Draco stiffens in his chair, knuckles white on his bottle. Harry feels a bit guilty at the hurt he can see in the blond's eyes.

"Look, I'm sorry. That was uncalled for" he whispers, because he knows that Narcissa has left the country as soon as the trials were over. With Lucius in Azkaban and all their properties and vaults seized, she has gone to France, to live with distant relatives, if he recalls correctly what she wrote last year in the letter she had sent to thank him for his testimony.

"It's okay. Old habits die hard, I suppose.

-Yes. Why didn't you leave with her?

-Severus left me Spinner's End in his will. I thought... I thought I could start a new life. Mother just wanted some peace, I guess. She was right, anyway.

-Right about what?

-There's no new begining for us. No starting over. Not here."

There are shadows in Draco's face, and Harry knows these very well. He sees them every morning when he looks in the mirror.

"Hermione and Ron... Well... They are moving on with their lives, you know.

-And you're not." It's not a question, it's a statement, and theirs eyes meet.

"No. I'm not. Ginny... Ginny couldn't stand it. She couldn't bear the nightmares, the wand under the pillow, the unplottable house... She used to say that I was stuck in the past, in the war. One day, she just left. She's engaged to Dean Thomas now. She deserves to be happy."

Draco just looks at him, as if he expects Harry to say more. Strangely, he wants to.

"Hermione and Ron were always there, checking on me every day. Trying to make me "do something with my life", as they put it, instead of wasting my time alone in this damn house. Hermione wanted me to work for the Ministry, but the Auror Department doesn't want someone so risky working for them, and there wasn't anything else I wanted to do. Ron thought I would be willing to play Quidditch in a professional team, but it seemed just so pointless... Eventually they became angry with me, I don't think they understand..."

Harry claps his mouth shut, because really, he has no idea why the hell he's talking about that with Draco bloody Malfoy. He can feel the heat on his face, and he knows he's blushing furiously. He keeps his gaze firmly on his hands, trying to figure out when he has gone insane. Well, more insane that he already was.

"In a way, we're both stuck. I can't find a job, because who would hire an ex-Death Eater? I can't study potions either, because Severus is dead and no one else would be willing to teach a Malfoy.

-Do you live at Spinner's End?

-Yeah.

-Ugh, better you than me. Grimmauld Place is dark and gloomy, but at least it's London. Spinner's End is creepy, and the neighborhood is not better.

-Grimmauld Place?

-The Black House. My godfather left it to me – Sirius Black. It was the safe house of the Order, during the war. Still heavily warded and unplottable.

-That's why you live there? I mean, money is not the problem, you could buy a nice flat or something.

-Yes, that's why. It's depressing, but I feel safe there."

Draco just nods and they stay silent after that, looking in the fire and sipping butterbeer. Harry thinks of Hermione and Ron, and how he misses them. He had thought they would always be together, facing anything life might throw at them, fighting and living and growing old together. But he is so damaged, so fucked-up that they have had enough, and he cannot blame them. Most of the time he hates what he's becoming, he hates how weak he is, when the others seem so strong. Everybody moves on, and he stays behind, alone. Harry looks at Draco, who's still lost in thought. Maybe he's not the only one to be left behind.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Mild violence

**AN :** This new chapter is dedicated to AchillesTheGeek, my first reviewer! Thank you so much! You win a virtual hug! So, here's the third chapter, enjoy and R&R please!

Abelforth is suddenly there, his blue eyes smiling as he spots Harry in his pub. He greets Harry with his usual strong handshake, and then he looks at Draco, waiting for Harry to introduce them.

"Abelforth, this is Draco. He is, ah, an old school mate.

-Pleased to meet you, Sir.

-There's no need to call me sir. Makes me feel older than I already am. So, what brings you here, boys?

-I met Draco in the cemetery.

-You've got to stop going there, Harry. It's been two years. You've got to let them go."

Harry does not answer, because there's nothing to say. How could he? How could he let them go, when he sees them dying and dying again every fucking night? Abelforth stays still for a moment, his eyes so soft and sad on Harry. He sighs and glances at Draco, like he is trying to figure him out.

"So... Draco... You're the young Malfoy, aren't you?

-Abelforth, don't " pleads Harry, and he has no idea why he feels the need to protect Draco, who has bullied him mercilessly in school, who fought on the Dark side, and who was generally a giant arse.

"Please, don't, okay? It's over, and we're different persons now.

-I was just about to say that he seems to be a far better man than his father."

Harry flushes in embarrassment, and Draco glares at him. He should have known that Abelforth would not say harsh or hurtful things. That's not the type of things he does. And unlike Harry, the old man is not one to assume first.

"Tell me Harry, would you have come to see me if you had not met Draco?

-Well, yes. I come to see you every time I'm here, you know it."

Draco and Abelforth look at him with incredulous stares, and Harry wonders for the umpteenth time why the bloody hell he is such a bad liar.

"Oh, really, Harry? So the last time you came here was three months ago, then?

-Okay, okay, I came once or twice since last time, but I didn't want to bother you.

-Just once or twice?"

Harry just nods, hoping he's not blushing. Well, that's not really a lie. They don't need to know that it's more like once or twice a week, after all.

"Anyway, it's good to see you with a friend.

-I have lots of friends." Harry mutters. He doesn't want to talk about his social life – or lack thereof – and especially not in front of Draco. He clears his throat a bit awkwardly and thinks of the best way to get out of here.

"Well, it was good to see you again, Abel. Guess I'll come again in a few days if it's okay with you? We could talk a little." Abelforth nods curtly, but his blue eyes twinkle enough to make Albus jealous and Harry fight the urge to tell him to just fuck off. Draco looks puzzled, and Harry knows he wonders why the Boy Who Lived seems so eager to flee all of a sudden.

"Draco, I'll… see you around, I suppose."

Draco has a sad smile and a sarcastic look, because they both know it's a lie. What are the odds that they will meet again after today? It's the first time they see each other in nearly two years, and they didn't even talk that day at the Wizengamot for the Malfoys trial, as Harry had testified and got out as soon as he could, overwhelmed by all the memories of the Ministry.

Harry litteraly flees after that, apparating in Grimmauld Place as soon as he exits the Hog's Head. He lets his shoes and still damp cloak in the dark hallway, which is fortunately now always silent, since he has successfully removed Walburga Black a few months ago – she's currently haunting the cupboard under the basement's stairs, and the irony of it is not lost on him.

A little later, as he eats a cup of instant noodles on the sofa, he realizes that he feels lonelier now than he has ever felt – and that's saying something. But at the same time, he's less depressed. There is this strange warmth in his chest, soft and soothing. It feels a bit like hope, even if it's not as strong, but it's quite welcome all the same. If only he could be brave enough to make it grow.

The next day, he apparates to the Leaky Cauldron and walks briskly in Diagon Alley. It's time for his monthly appointment with George. George is the only Weasley with whom Harry still speaks. After the break-up with Ginny and all the arguments with Hermione and Ron, Harry has lost his surrogate family. Except for George. Maybe because George does not cope so well with the death of Fred. Maybe because George understands, and does not ask questions.

Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes is still doing pretty well. The colorful shop has not changed much, and Harry cannot help but smile as he pushes the door. Lee Jordan helps George with the customers since Fred's death, and Harry spots his famous dreadlocks behind a shelf. George waves at him from behind the counter, and he opens the door to the backroom for Harry without a word, as usual.

"Hi, George. Got my delivery?

-Yeah. No incident this month?

-No.

-That's good, Harry. Here you go."

He hands Harry the usual package, covered neatly with brown craft paper. Dreamless Sleep potions. Enough for a month, three peaceful nights each week, since it would not be safe to drink it every night. It had been George's idea. After the incident a few months ago, he had told Harry that he knew a good potion maker, taking and delivering orders by owl only. George orders and receives the deliveries, and Harry has no need to worry about scandals and newspaper – he's as famous as always, and every tiny bit of information about him is valuable. Harry and George never talked about the incident again, and George trusts Harry enough to believe him when he answers "no" every month.

They talk a little, about the shop, about the last news of the wizarding world, about the Weasleys, too, because Harry misses them and wants to be sure they're alright. This Monday, Harry tells George about his surprise encounter with Draco, and George only nods from time to time, his brow furrowed thoughtfully. George is a good listener. He pats Harry on the shoulder before going back to the shop, and Harry takes it as his clue to leave. Maybe next month he will buy some sweets for Rose and give them to George. Ron's and Hermione's daughter. It's better not to think too much about such things. It's raining again when Harry exits the shop.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Mild violence

**AN :** This new chapter is dedicated to billjenny6972 and budford12, who both let me wonderful reviews! R&R please!

It's been two weeks since that rainy Sunday, and Harry finally has to admit it. He wants to see Draco again. He wants to talk about these awful memories with him, he wants to share all the pain and the loneliness and the bitterness with someone who understands all those things. Someone who feels the same. He longs for the strange kinship, and above all for the glimpse of normalcy that the short encounter with the blonde has given him. And isn't it weird. He startles badly when Kreacher enters the room with the dinner, muttering to himself about the noble Black family. Kreacher usually refrains from insulting Harry's friends or family, but he's still mourning the loss of Regulus and Walburga. He doesn't dare to say anything about Sirius, though – he seems to understand that it's off limits. All in all, Harry is quite happy to have him around. Well, most of time, anyway.

"Thank you, Kreacher. Is this beef casserole?" Harry asks, poking suspiciously with his fork at the brown thing in his plate.

"Yes, Master."

Kreacher bows and disappears with a clap of his fingers before Harry can ask where the hell Kreattur has found the ingredients for this… thing he has cooked. It's probably better not to know. It's not half bad, the meat is quite tender and the small pieces of carrots and potatoes are well cooked. Kreacher cooks only on evenings, and Harry usually eats burned toasts in the morning and instant meals for lunch, while Kreattur wanders in the dark house. Since Ginny is gone, it's an unspoken arrangement between them, and Harry is a bit ashamed to admit that the old house-elf is generally the only one he speaks to. But it's better than talking to himself, like he realizes he sometimes does. Harry goes to bed early that night, thinking that tomorrow is Sunday, and that he will spend time at the cemetery. Hoping to see silver-blond hair and grey eyes. Hoping to speak to someone who gives him some of his sanity back, even for a moment.

The black tombstone shines beautifully in the cold sunlight of October, and Harry removes a few red leafs from it. How he wishes the potions Master was there. He has the feeling that Severus would have understood what Harry lives. That he could have helped him. Maybe they could have healed each other, in a way. A lone tear makes his way on Harry's cheek, and it seems to be finally too much. He feels like falling to his knees on the cold floor, and letting himself fade away right here. He should have died with them. It would be so much easier to give up. Nobody would miss him. He suddenly wonders how much time would pass until someone worries about him, should he die. Probably weeks. He begins to laugh hysterically, because really, who would guess that the Boy Who Lived, the bloody Savior is so alone that he could die and nobody would know about it for weeks? How fucking ironic is that?

"It's not generally a good sign to laugh like that, you know. You should probably not do it in public. People might think their hero is going nuts."

The drawling voice is just behind Harry, and it's such a relief to hear it.

"Yeah. We would not want to have another psychotic wizard, would we?

-No. Definitely not."

Draco does not speak anymore, but when Harry walks out of the cemetery, he follows, and he sits in front of Harry again in Abelforth's pub. They're silent for a while. Abelforth puts two glasses of Firewhiskey before them with a smile, even if it seems far too early for such a drink, and disappears in the back room. And after the first burning sip, Harry has to ask Draco.

"Why are you here? I mean, I didn't see you once in the cemetery for two years, and now it's been twice in two weeks.

-Last time I just went for Severus. I usually come at night, that's why we didn't see each other before.

-And today?

-I was hoping to see you" Draco answers, his face open and his eyes serious, and Harry feels like crying, and doesn't even know why.

"What do you do for a living? I don't suppose Snape left you any money.

-He didn't. I'm selling potions.

-Potions? I thought you couldn't study with a Master?

-I could not. But McGonagall was kind enough to let me sit my NEWTs last summer, and I passed potions. I'm allowed to brew and sell simple potions like Pepper-Up or Dreamless-Sleep. I've got an owl-order system with a false name, actually, since nobody would buy potions brewed by a Malfoy.

-Oh, like Horus Potions' Service, then?

-Well, actually, that's my company. How do you know it? I would remember selling anything to you."

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Harry suddenly wants to simply disappear. Of course it must have to be Draco's company from which Harry buys his Dreamless Sleep potions. And Draco is smart, he looks at Harry for only a few moments before he understands.

"You are ordering from me through someone else, aren't you? I always wondered why George Weasley needed so much Dreamless Sleep potions, even with the loss of his twin he always seemed to do well enough. But they're not for him, they're for you, aren't they? Harry, how many potions do you take each week?"

There's concern in Draco's voice, and Harry barely refrains from rolling his eyes.

"Don't worry, I only take them twice or thrice a week. You won't be blamed if someone finds me dead someday.

-That's not what I'm concerned about, Harry.

-No, of course not.

-I have them too, you know.

-What?

-The nightmares. I have them too."

The grey eyes look at him, unwavering. Draco is too thin for a man of his height, Harry notes. Maybe he doesn't eat enough. Harry wonders if it would be a good idea to invite him for lunch.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Mild violence

**AN :** This chapter contains mention of past child-abuse, it might be disturbing for some people. Thanks to all my reviewers! As usual, R&R please!

"Potter. What in the name of Merlin's beard is this supposed to be?

-Why are you calling me Potter again? And this is canned tomato soup.

-I'm calling you Potter because you're obviously trying to poison me. I thought we were past that, really. And there is no way this thing is actual soup. I wouldn't feed it to house-elves."

Harry almost says something about Hermione and house-elves rights. Almost. Then he remembers. Hermione is not around anymore. He swallows and puts a smile on his face, looking at Draco's horror-struck face.

"It's muggle food, Draco. It's not half-bad, I eat it quite often.

-No offense, Harry, but it doesn't seem to do you any good.

-You're the one to talk. You're skinny. I'm just… slight build.

-Slight build my ass. You're looking half-starved. But then again, it's nothing new. You already looked that way in Hogwarts. Were those muggle relatives of yours not feeding you properly?

-Actually, no, they were not."

Draco doesn't even look surprised. He looks at Harry thoughtfully, and nods.

"It was true, then.

-What was true?

-You were abused.

-I was not. I was maybe… neglected.

-Harry, a child who is starved and locked in a cupboard is abused.

-How the fuck do you even know about that?

-I overheard Granger and Weasley once in Hogwarts.

-Did your father really practice Crucio on you?" Harry asks softly. It was a persistent rumor in school, even if he never really believed it – Draco always seemed to worship his father.

"Of course not" Draco says with a bitter smile. Harry is torn between relief at the answer and concern at the distant look in Draco's eyes.

"Crucio is a curse. It's for wizards. Since I was not doing well enough as a wizard, my father thought it fitting to punish me the muggle way. I must say I was quite impressed with them. The Muggles, I mean. I started doubting the Dark Lord and all the rubbish my parents were telling me. It was quite obvious that Muggles were quite intelligent, at least when it came to hurting people. That, and Granger's giant brains, of course."

Harry chuckles at that. He tries not to think too much about what Lucius had done to his own son.

"So, back on the subject, do you happen to have an house-elf?

-Actually, yes. Why?

-Because I don't want to die eating Muggle soup. Just call him – or her.

-It's a he. Kreacher!"

The old house-elf appears instantly, looking faintly annoyed to be disturbed in the middle of the day, since it is highly unusual for Harry to call him, except for dinner. He stops dead in his tracks when he spots Draco, though, and his enormous watery eyes suddenly seem even bigger. Of course. Draco is a Black through his mother, and a pure-blood wizard. Harry mentally rolls his eyes as Kreacher bows as low as he can.

"Master Harry has finally a guest worthy of this noble house, yes, Kreacher is most pleased, such an honor to meet the Malfoy heir…

-Yes, yes, Kreacher. Well, Draco?

-Hello Kreacher." Draco's voice is gentle, and he leans forward to speak with the house-elf. "We would like to cook something for lunch. Could you please go to Hogwarts and ask Winky for whatever fresh vegetables they have? And maybe treacle tart, I'm sure Master Harry would be delighted to have some for dessert.

-Of course, Sir, Kreacher will be right back, Sir.

-It figures that my own house-elf barely tolerates me, but would worship the ground you walk on.

-Don't pout, Harry, it doesn't suit you."

Draco looks way too smug for Harry's taste, and the blonde yelps when the wordless Stinging Hex hits him on the left buttock. Unexpectedly, Draco laughs, a carefree and clear laugh that lights the gloomy kitchen. It ends too soon, because Kreacher reappears with what looks like food for at least twelve people, and then Draco is all business, peeling and chopping and making a mess of Harry's kitchen. Harry finally shakes himself off his daze and puts glasses and plates on the table – something he has not done since Ginny is gone.

They eat quietly, and Harry bits his tongue a few times to avoid moaning in ecstasy. It's only grilled cheese sandwiches and home-made vegetables soup, but it's been a very long time since Harry has eaten something that good. And the treacle tart is to die for. When he's done, he leans back in his chair, patting his stomach a bit, and observe Draco closely.

"Draco… Will you tell me… I mean… What did your father do to you?

-No. I won't tell you. But I can show you, if you tell me what convince George Weasley to order Dreamless-Sleep potions for you.

-Fair enough."

Harry sighs, and tries to think of the best way to explain it.

"No need to sugar-coat the truth with me. Just spill it.

-I used to drink myself to sleep" Harry says bluntly. "I couldn't stand the nightmares, couldn't stand waking up like that every night. Especially not alone. And I couldn't get Dreamless-Sleep potions in a store, the newspapers would have had a field day. So I drank until I just passed out. One night, George came here to discuss a new product he wanted to test. He found me in the upstairs' bathroom, and… well. He promised to get me potions if I swore to stop doing that. I'm lucky to have him, I'm aware he should have just walked away.

-That's what friends are supposed to do. Not that I know anything about it, mind you. But I don't understand how Granger and Weasley have just-

-Don't. Please don't say anything about them" Harry whispers, eyes burning with unshed tears, and hands balled into tight fists.

Draco doesn't say anything. Instead he stands up, and removes his shirt. And then Harry feels like throwing up, and Draco turns around and it's even worse. His skin is marred with scars, all over his chest and back. Angry red scars and white ones, some looking like burns and others like whipping marks. The Dark Mark is a bit faded on his left forearm, and the skin around it is swollen and red. Harry extends his hand to touch it, but Draco moves backwards and quickly puts his shirt back, looking resolutely on the ground.

"Why is it looking that way? Does it still hurt? I thought…

-No. I'm still trying to remove it. With little success, as you can see.

-I'm sorry.

-It wasn't your fault.

-I know. Your father is really a sick bastard.

-Yeah. I hate him. Always have.

Harry just nods. Then Draco speaks again, and his voice is so soft and broken that Harry barely hears him.

"We're both fucked-up, aren't we?

-Yes, we are."


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Mild violence

**AN :** I'm sorry if last chapter was a bit depressing, but you know what it's like: it has to get worse before it gets better! So, anyway, here you go!

Harry has to say something, anything to break the heavy silence between them.

"So, care to explain how you know Winky and why she's so eager to feed you?

-Oh! I met her when I went back to Hogwarts last summer, to sit my NEWTs. I used to eat in the kitchens for lunch, and, well. It seems that Winky is not so happy about her unwanted freedom, and before I knew it I became her official charity case. She apparates from time to time in my kitchen with a basket of food and lots of advices about home-keeping."

Harry struggles not to laugh, as he imagines Winky giving Malfoy advices about dusting or cleaning the loo. Draco looks at him with a scowl, which is soon replaced by a half-smile.

"Yeah, I know. Who would have guessed that Draco Malfoy would need a freed house-elf to survive?"

Harry bits his lip, and finally, finally, erupts in a full laughter, followed by the soft chuckle of Draco after a few moments. Harry can hardly remember the last time he has laughed like that, and it's so good it actually hurts. He wipes his eyes and looks at Draco, whose grey eyes are smiling and looking brighter than Harry can remember ever seeing them.

"You're an insensitive prat, you know that?

-Well, sorry, but you have to admit it's kind of funny.

-I should probably leave, I have some potions to brew for tomorrow.

-Oh. Yes, of course."

Harry's disappointment must show on his face, and he usually would be mortified to appear so vulnerable, but right now he doesn't care. Draco stands up, straightening his clothes.

"Can I apparate through the wards, now that you let me in?

-No, you have to go outside. Or you can Floo, if you like. I'll open it for you.

-That would be perfect, yes."

Harry leads the way to the fireplace in the dining room, and lifts the wards. Draco seems to hesitate, opening and closing his mouth a few times before finally saying something.

"Maybe… maybe I'll see you next Sunday, then."

And then he's gone, leaving Harry standing on the used and dusty rug. It's only late that night that he understands why he's feeling better than he has been in ages: he has something to look forward to. It's something so small, so insignificant to most people. To Harry, it's a ray of light in the never ending darkness that has been surrounding him for too long.

HP-HP-HP-HP-HP

"Absolutely not.

-Come on, Draco, it'll be good for you.

-No.

-But why?"

It's Sunday again, and Harry and Draco are arguing above lasagna in Harry's kitchen. Draco was waiting for him this morning, next to Snape's grave, to Harry's relief, and after a short walk in Hogmead and a cup of tea with Abelforth, Harry had taken the blonde's hand and apparate them in Grimmauld Place without even asking. Everything was running smoothly until Harry asked Draco to meet him in Diagon Alley the next day to do some shopping and maybe have lunch in one of the restaurants.

"Why? Because I don't particularly fancy having spit on my face, Harry!

-What?

-Honestly, how dense are you? How do you think people react when they see me? Draco Malfoy, evil spawn, Death Eater, son of Lucius Malfoy, faithful follower of the Dark Lord? Rings any bell?

-But…"

Harry is at loss for words. Are people really spitting on Draco on the streets? Calling him names? Threatening him, maybe? Harry usually walks fast in Wizarding London, not spending more time than necessary in the streets, because of eventual reporters and of some overzealous fans – if anyone recognize him at all. He takes care to always wear standard black robes and to put his hair on his scar. He had his eyes healed in St Mungo's last year, and without his glasses he's not so recognizable anymore. Especially since he avoids all official appearances and does not talk to the press. Without all the unwanted attention, he generally enjoys his short trips to Diagon Alley, and it pains him that Draco cannot do the same.

"I'll be there too. I won't let anyone hurt you."

Draco's eyes soften and he stops stabbing at his lasagna like it's responsible for all his problems.

"I know that. And it's why it's even a worse idea. You cannot be seen with me.

-I don't care.

-You should.

-Why? I don't care what people think of me. Why should I? The only friends I've got left won't give a damn about it.

-I can't, Harry".

Draco's voice is a pitiful whisper and Harry can feel his chest clench painfully at the sight of the blonde's hurt look. It's not fair, it's revolting, and there's still a Gryffindor deep inside of him. If he can do something to ease the pain Draco experiences, he will do it. If only to repay his new friend for the time they spend together. This time Harry is starting to value so much.

"Then you'll take Polyjuice, if you must. But you're coming with me tomorrow.

-I don't have any Polyjuice, and it takes weeks to brew. But… I can manage some pretty decent Glamour Charms.

-That's even better! So, I'll open the Floo for you at ten tomorrow, and we'll go there together. What do you say?

-You won't let it lie, will you?

-No. I'm stubborn like that.

-Yeah. Some things never change.

-No. You know you like it."

Harry sticks his tongue out at Draco, and the blonde sniffs playfully in response, his nose up in the air. They will go to Diagon Alley, and they will have a good time. Harry would prefer for Draco to go as himself, but he knows it's probably too much to ask – at least for now.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Mild violence

**AN : **Thanks to all my reviewers/followers/favoriters (yes, it's a word. I said so). Please let me know what you think about it! You know how it is: we're all review-starved. If I don't get reviews, I might do something rash. Like kill one of our heroes, just out of spite. ***evil cackle***

It had been a very, very, very bad idea. Harry knows it now, as he clumsily steps out of the Floo in Grimmauld place, half-carrying, half-dragging an unconscious Draco. He manages to reach the sofa and arranges Draco on it as best as he can. There's a nasty cut on the blonde's brow, where his head has met the pavement – he has been hit by a strong Stunning Spell, and Harry's Protego was not fast enough. His hands are shaking badly as he brushes the pale strands out of the way to get a better look at the wound. He's failed Draco. He said he wouldn't let anybody hurt him, and yet here they are.

Draco's Glamour Charms are really good, and Harry had almost cursed him this morning when he came in through the Floo. The silver-blond hair had been changed to a dark gold, and the grey eyes to a nice shade of blue. Draco had managed to change his nose and chin a little too, and he was unrecognizable. He had been looking unsure of himself and out of sorts, though, and Harry had been extra cheerful, to the point where Draco had told him to drop the over-enthousiastic Gryffindor act with a weak smile.

The first two hours had gone smoothly, wandering and shopping in Diagon Alley, which was not so crowded as they could have feared – but it's usually so in the mornings. Then they decided to have lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, because Harry knew that Tom would give him a table in a hidden corner and ensure that they would not be disturbed, as he always do. But Draco probably recognized someone there, and with the added stress, his magic had not been able to maintain the Charms on his face. Harry was suddenly in front of a very distressed and very recognizable Draco Malfoy, and then all hell broke loose, with people shouting at them, fighting to stand between the two of them, trying to "protect the Saviour". They managed to get out of the pub with Tom's help, Harry's hand tightly clutched on Draco's forearm, but it was worse on the street. After a few warnings from Harry, insults were replaced by spells and curses, and Draco had been hit just as Harry casted an instinctive wandless and non-verbal Protego in front of them. Luckily, George appeared from nowhere and hastily hauled up Draco onto his shoulder, urging Harry to jog beside him until they reached the backdoor of the jokes shop, where a very worried-looking Lee was waiting for them, wand drawn.

Harry can still hear what George has told him just before he stepped into the green flames with Draco. "You're the bloody Savior, Harry. You saved them all. Maybe it's time for you to ask for something in return." He looks at Draco again, and heals his cut. Fortunately it's not deep, it won't scar. Draco has enough scars already.

He's a bit afraid to wake Draco. The blonde will be pissed, and probably angry at Harry. He casts Enervate and sits on the sofa next to Draco, whose eyes are now wide open and looking frantically around. Draco finally looks at Harry, and yes, there's anger, there's shame too, but above all there's a deep and dark despair in the grey eyes that makes Harry want to curse himself.

"I'm sorry, Draco.

-How did you manage to get us out?" Draco's voice is ice-cold, and Harry shivers.

"Hum, George and Lee gave us a hand. I'm sorry I wasn't fast enough, I-

-You might want to send an owl to the Daily Prophet right away. I'm sure somebody already told them we were together today. It would not do for the Savior of the Wizarding World to consort with Death Eaters.

-What? No, Draco, please, I just-

-Save it, Potter."

And with that, Draco stands up, steps in the fireplace yelling "Spinner's End", and he's gone, leaving Harry to wonder why the bloody hell everything in his life goes wrong.

HP-HP-HP-HP

Harry lays in his bed that night, the darkness of the master bedroom soothing his pounding headache. He has to admit that he never thought of all the cleared Death Eaters, or of the Death Eaters' children before he met Draco again. Granted, he lives a very reclused life, not even reading newspapers anymore, and with very few friends to keep him up to date, but he feels guilty nonetheless. The Wizarding World is at peace, but there's still hate, there are wounds that are still open and bleeding, and there are people suffering. People like Draco. George's words keep playing in Harry's mind. Maybe he's right. Maybe he can do something about it. Fix it, somehow. Harry's a Griffyndor to the core, but he was almost sorted in Slytherin, and it's time to see if the Sorting Hat was right. Time to see if there's enough cunning and cleverness under all that Gryffindor bravery and honesty to achieve his new goal.

Draco may hate him now, but it doesn't mean that Harry has to just take it and drown himself in self-pity. And he may have done his duty by killing Voldemort, but that doesn't mean he's useless now, despite what he has been thinking since the final battle. He has been given a new purpose. Draco's been right: he has to send an owl to the Daily Prophet. Harry gets out of bed. He needs tea, he needs parchment, and he needs Hermione.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Mild violence

**AN: **Yes, I know, two chapters today. Yes, I like you that much ^^. R&R, please!

Merlin, but it's awkward, Harry thinks with a mental sigh. Writing to Hermione has been difficult enough, but seeing here in his dining-room is something that's nearly choking him. Cassandra, his owl, has finally taken not one, but three letters with her that night. One for the Daily Prophet, one for Kingsley Shackelbot, now Minister, and the last for Hermione. And after a few hours spent pacing in front of the fireplace, she's there, with her bushy hair and warm brown eyes, looking exactly the same as she did a few months ago. She looks at him for a few moments, her lower lip quivering slightly, and he looks back, waiting for her to say something.

But she doesn't. Instead she launches herself at Harry, and then her arms are around him and her head is in his neck, and Harry releases a breath he didn't know he was holding. It will be alright.

"Oh Harry, I'm so, so sorry... I've been so worried, and Ron wouldn't let me write to you, he said you needed to sort it out on your own, and we only got news from George, and-

-Hermione, calm down, it's okay.

-I know you can't forgive me like that, but I promise I won't leave again. I shouldn't have in the first place. I should have tried harder, I'm sorry.

-It's alright. I know I've been... difficult to deal with. I mean... I cannot say it didn't hurt to lose you, because it did." It still hurts. It's a raw and ugly wound, and Harry's not sure it will ever be really healed. "But, well, it's done. I'm glad you're here today.

-I'll do what I can to make it up to you, Harry. Tell me how I can help.

-You don't ask me why I'm doing this?

-No, Harry. If you want to tell me, then you will, and if you don't, well, you don't. Either way, I'll help you. Besides I read the Prophet this morning. And I think you're right."

Hermione hands him the newspaper, and Harry reads the frontpage, barely believing his eyes.

_'__**Death Eater Draco Malfoy spotted with our Savior in Diagon Alley!'**_

_Imperius Curse? Potion? Blackmail? How the younger Malfoy succeeded in tricking the Boy-Who-Lived is not known yet, but both of them have been seen yesterday in Diagon Alley. Our best reporter investigated for you. Rita Skeeter's report in page 2_

_Harry Potter's life and strange behavior after the war, see page 4_

_Draco Malfoy's suspicious clearance, and his possible ulterior motives, see page 5_

Fucking hell. If Draco didn't already hate him after yesterday's fiasco, he will now. Shit. Hermione is looking at him, concern written all over her face.

"Well, it's worse than I thought it would be.

-We have to react quickly if we want to do something about it. Strike hard and fast.

-Yeah. Well, I already wrote to the Prophet this morning. Told them I wanted to give an exclusive interview. They jumped on the opportunity. I'll meet Rita at the Hog's Head this afternoon.

-That's good Harry. It has to be published tomorrow. I'll see to it. What else?

-I sent a letter to Kingsley. I think we have to do something official about it.

-Alright. I'll ask Arthur to check the Ministry files, to see if other incidents like this have been recorded and investigated before. We will see what we can do from there. Do you want me to come with you this afternoon?

-I'd hoped you would. Rita wouldn't be so confident if you're here.

-Of course, Harry. I'll be there."

Harry smiles, because it's so good to have her back, to see her write like a madwoman in her notebook, to know that she will research and read and plan to help him. He hopes he will be able to fully forgive her, one day, because he needs her in his life.

They agree to meet at the Hog's Head at three, and Hermione kisses his cheek before she goes.

HP-HP-HP-HP

Rita Skeeter is not pleased to see Hermione sitting with Harry in the Hog's Head, and she's even less pleased to learn that she will have to use the quill and parchment that the bushy haired young woman has brought – both charmed so that the reporter can neither lie about Harry, nor change anything he will say. But an interview with the Boy Who Lived is worth all of these preliminary conditions, and she knows it. She reluctantly sits down in front of them, her bright red mouth twitching in anticipation.

"So, Harry. Our readers are dying to know why you were seen with a known Death Eater yesterday. Some rumors-

-I don't care about rumors. Draco Malfoy is a friend of mine, and I'm proud and honored to have his friendship. I will not tolerate any lies about him, or about any of my friends, for that matter.

-You cannot deny that Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater, and-

-Key word is "was". Draco Malfoy was cleared during his trial. He saved my life during the war, as his mother did a bit later. He made mistakes as a teenager, but he's not the Dark Mark on his arm, like I'm not the scar on my forehead. He's a good man, and I demand that he's respected as such. What happened yesterday is unacceptable. It's a shameful and cowardly act.

-So you can certify our readers that you are not under any kind of magical influence where Draco Malfoy is concerned?

-Absolutely. And truth be told, I'm a bit surprised that people think me powerful enough to vanquish Voldemort – even if I didn't do it alone – but not enough to know who my friends are, and if their intentions are genuine.

-Are your feelings toward Mr Malfoy Junior of a romantic nature?

-What?" Hermione high-pitched exclamation seems to linger in the air between them.

Harry stays speechless for a moment. He really didn't expect that question. And the worst of it is that he doesn't even know how to answer that. Hell, he doesn't even know if Draco is still willing to just speak to him. Has he ever been his friend, to begin with?

"I can assure you that I'm not involved in any romantic relationship with Draco Malfoy."

There. It's not a lie, after all. Hermione nods proudly at his clever answer, but he can see in her eyes that she's dying to know more. She remains silent, though, and lets him thank Rita and leave. She will deal with the reporter and negotiate the publishing's conditions, as they agreed. Harry apparates home and sprawls on the couch. It's been a long day. He hopes he's made the good choice. Only time will tell, now.

He wakes up after what seems to be an awfully short time - even if the daylight pouring into the room says otherwise. The Floo is flaring – and the sound of it is probably what has woken him – and Draco is suddenly in front of him. A very disheveled and very angry-looking Draco, who is wearing black sleepers and grey tee-shirt and sweat pants, and clutching a newspaper in one hand, and his wand in the other. There are two red patches on his cheeks and he's breathing unevenly.

"Potter. What the fuck you think you're doing?"

Harry fights the urge to laugh – or to hide behind the couch. Well, that'll be fun.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Mild violence

**AN: **Here's chapter 9! Thanks to my reviewers! I expect a lot more today :D

"Well, good morning sunshine!" Harry grins and Draco looks like a bomb about to blow. "Er... right. I don't know you, but I could do with a cup of tea. Or maybe you're drinking coffee? Mind you, I don't know why I'm asking because I'm pretty sure there isn't any coffee..." Harry knows he's babbling, but he needs time to gather his wits, and besides it's rather amusing to see Draco's face. In the kitchen, he puts two mugs on the table, and busies himself with making tea.

"Potter!" Draco's voice is a low growl, and Harry hides his persisting grin while he tries to make toasts, waving his hand above the poor slices of bread.

"Potter, what are you doing now?

-Hum, toasts? But I'm not very good with that, I burn the damn things every morning.

-Where's your wand?

-I don't use it anymore.

-What?

-I... After the final battle... I... I couldn't control my magic anymore. Were always blowing things, or setting fire to the room... It was pretty awful. Ginny and, well, everybody... They were starting to be afraid of me. It got only worse from there, probably because I was so angry with myself. Then Minerva – McGonagall – helped me work with my magic, so that I could keep it safe. I realized I felt more comfortable without my wand, so, yeah.

-Are you telling me you're doing wandless magic all the time?

-Er... Yes?

-Bloody hell..."

Here it is. This exact moment, where people discover he's even more of a freak than they already knew. This moment where people starts to be afraid and disgusted with him – the Dursleys with his magic, Hogwart's students with his Parseltongue ability, and then his friends with the wild bursts of magic and the nightmares. Harry doesn't dare looking at Draco, so he keeps trying to make toasts.

"Stop murdering the toasts and explain that little interview of yours."

Draco comes next to him and takes care of the toasts with a careless flick of his wand. They're perfect, of course, golden and crispy. They sit down at the kitchen's table, and before Harry can say anything, Draco is talking again.

"I don't need your protection, Potter. And I'm not your charity case.

-No, you're Winky's". The words are out of his mouth before he knows it, and he winces at his own stupidity. "Sorry. I'm nervous. And this" he says, pointing the newspaper " isn't about you.

-Oh, really?" Draco raises a perfect blond eyebrow, and Harry has to roll his eyes.

-Well, it's about you, but not only. It's the first part of my plan.

-Your... plan?

-Mine and Hermione's, actually.

-Ah, of course. I should have known she had something to do with it. So, explain.

-Can't you see, Draco? You're a grown man and a powerful wizard, and you were with me, for fuck's sake. And they dare attack you? What do you think they might do to others? What about the children, in Hogwarts? What about families, or women, in Diagon Alley? We have to do something about it.

-We? I'm not playing any part in this.

-I'm not asking you to. Hermione's helping me, and I'll talk to Kingsley – the Minister – tomorrow."

Draco's eyes flash for a second, but Harry cannot define what emotion he has seen in the grey orbs. They eat then, and there's a quiet peace between them that allows Harry to relax a little. That is, until Draco opens his mouth again.

"So, most eligible bachelor, are you?

-Uh?

-Let me see..." Draco turns a few pages of the newspaper, apparently looking for something. "Ah, there it is. "Harry Potter, our Savior and the most eligible bachelor of Wizarding England".

-Oh! Well, she didn't talk to Ginny, apparently" Harry answers with a bitter smile. But then Draco is looking at him intensely, with a wicked grin that makes strange things to Harry's insides, and he feels his cheeks heating.

"I must admit that you look slightly less moronic without those hideous glasses you used to wear.

-Thanks... Wait, what?

-You should see your face, it's hilarious." Draco smirks, and Harry wishes he could stop making a fool of himself. "So, what are you and Granger planning to do? Apart from telling everybody that I'm your friend, that is." Draco adds with a sneer.

That stings. No, scratch that, it fucking hurts, and Harry feels like there's suddenly not enough oxygen in the kitchen, so he stands up and leaves. He goes back to the dining room, and he looks out the window to the grey sky that seems so low today. He hears Draco's light footsteps behind him, so he starts to explain.

"Giving that interview is the first step. I wanted people to know that..." He clears his throat and tries to steel himself. He can do that. He's done far worse. "I wanted people to know that we're friends. First of all because they had no right to do what they did to you that day. And then because we're both famous, and I thought we would be a good example. I mean, if we're able to be fr-... to get along, then the wizarding community is certainly able to do the same. And I will talk with Kingsley and see what we can do on a more official and political level. I might go to Hogwarts too, I think we need to talk to the children. Maybe I could organize something with Minerva.

-Harry... Why are you doing this?

-Because it's not right, what's happening. Because someone has to do something.

-It doesn't have to be you, you know.

-I know. But nobody's doing anything, and I want to. So I will."

There's suddenly a warm weight on his shoulder, and Harry takes a sharp intake of breath, but he still doesn't turn around. Draco's hand squeezes a little harder, and then it's gone.

"Stop looking like a beaten puppy. I'll help you. It's not like I've got any pressing matters. Or any other friends, if you think of it."

And just like that, it's okay again, and Harry turns around to see Draco, who's looking terrified in spite of his mocking smile, with his arm stretched before him, like he's waiting something. Like he wants Harry to take his hand. There's fragile hope in the gesture, and there's a bravery that Draco isn't probably even aware of. Harry shakes the pale hand. He's sure that the quiet happiness in Draco's eyes is mirrored in his own.

"And you shouldn't sleep on the couch. Your hair is looking worse than usual. Honestly, I didn't think it was even possible. Are you keeping a guinea-pig family in there or what?"

Trust Draco to ruin a perfect moment.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Mild violence

**AN: I need your help for the following chapters. I cannot decide if Ron follows Hermione's path, or if he's a prick - so, what do you think? Ron's back? Or do you fancy a little Ron-bashing? Let me know! **While I'm waiting for your answers, here's the tenth chapter. And because I have received such beautiful reviews, it's a bit longer than usual (okay, to be honest it's just that I had to put many things in it, but, well. It doesn't hurt eiter way!).

Harry hates the Ministry building. He has only bad memories here. His hearing after the Dementors' story, the Department of Mysteries and Sirius' death, and the awful trials after the war. Hermione takes his arm with a reassuring smile and they step into the lift. Kingsley waits for them in the hall, his towering height clad in purple robes. He smiles kindly and his voice is a deep as ever when he greets them.

"Harry, Hermione, I'm happy to see you both. Harry, it's been too long. How are you?

-I'm fine, thanks." That's a lie Harry has been able to perfect over the last years. "And how is our favorite Minister doing?"

Kingsley snorts and shakes his head, leading them in his office. He sits behind the desk, gesturing for Harry and Hermione to take a seat in front of him.

"So, Harry. I got your letter, and Hermione let me know about your idea yesterday. I must say I was shocked to learn that you had to face an attack in Diagon Alley two days ago. George Weasley and Lee Jordan were particularly upset about the whole story, and they sent me one of their specialties.

-Oh Merlin, I'm sorry. What was it?

-A Stinking Howler. Quite clever. And persistent, too." Kingsley smiles a little, and then his expression turns serious. "Anyway, they're right. You of all people should be able to-

-Kingsley, this is not about me.

-Is it about the young Malfoy, then?" Kingsley asks softly.

"Well, in a sense yes, because he's my friend and I know what he has to go through, hell, I witnessed it. But there are many others like him.

-Do you think it's worth it?"

Hermione puts her hand on Harry's forearm, and he can almost hear what she's thinking. That Kingsley is on their side, that he means well, and that they need him.

"Don't take me wrong Harry. I know what you're trying to do, I understand it and I agree with you. What I mean is, do you think it's worth all the issues you will face? The threats? The exposure? The suspicions? A lot of people won't like it, and the war is still fresh in everybody's memories.

-We fought for a world where people's worth doesn't depend on their blood-status. We fought against these stupid prejudices, didn't we? We didn't do it to see the wizarding community split by another type of prejudice. I can't stand it. And it's dangerous, Kingsley, it tears people apart, it may even lead to another war, someday. We have to do something about it, and I don't care about consequences for myself. I have no family and very few friends – and they are all battle-hardened people who can defend themselves, if it comes to that.

-Very well, Harry. What do you want from me?

-I need your support. Talk to all the Heads of Departments, so that they report any incident like Draco and I experienced. Make an official declaration. I'll be willing to speak with you, if needed. Show that it's not something you take lightly, that it's not okay. You're a war hero and a former Head Auror, you're a respected Minister, they will listen to you. Hermione?

-I already gathered some files, with Arthur's help. It will give you a good idea of what has been going on for a few months. Kingsley, I must say we were pretty shocked to read some of these files... Houses have been burned down, employees fired from their jobs without reasons, some people have been beaten up... It's serious, and I for one am ashamed that we let things go that far."

Kingsley sighs heavily, but takes the heavy file that Hermione hands him.

"Harry, I need you to promise me two things. One, please be careful. I don't like where this is going. I will do my best to act quickly on it, but in the meantime, please refrain to do anything too... well, anything you might be tempted to do, in fact. Let me handle that.

-Okay. I just planned to go to Hogwarts, I want to talk with Minerva, and maybe say something to the children in the Great Hall. What else?

-If someone offers you my job in a few years, please say no. Trust me, it's not worth the headaches." Kingsley chuckles darkly and leans back in his leather-chair. "Despite the circumstances, Harry, I'm glad to see you back. I'll owl you and Hermione soon. Take care of yourself.

-Thanks, Kingsley. It means a lot to me.

-See you, Kingsley!" Hermione grabs Harry's arm and is nearly bouncing all the way to the lift.

"Kingsley will do his best Harry. We could not have dreamed a better ally.

-Yes, I know.

-So, who's next? Minerva?

-Yes. I've been thinking that I could visit Hogwarts tomorrow. And I'd like to bring Draco, if I can manage to convince him." Harry winces at the idea. This will actually be the most difficult part. "He knows Minerva and I think he trusts her. She let him sit his NEWTs last year.

-She's been doing that for several students who have missed their last year.

-Maybe Draco and I could talk to the students. I think students of all houses would listen better if we'd go together, you know?

-You mean if both the former Slytherin Ice Prince and the former Gryffindor Golden Boy go together?" Hermione giggles and Harry is a little surprised to see her do something so… girly.

"Yeah. I mean… We weren't so different, were we? And now it doesn't matter anymore, which House we were sorted in. Or it shouldn't matter. And perhaps it would do some good for the students to realize it.

-It makes sense, Harry.

-Don't look so surprised." Harry fakes a scowl and Hermione laughs, hitting him playfully on the arm with a small fist.

"Okay, I will see what I can find with Arthur, and then work on a public speech with Kingsley. We'll talk again soon. I'll Floo you this week-end, if that's okay?

-It's perfect, Hermione. I'll owl you after I'll come back from Hogwarts anyway. See you, 'Mione."

Hermione hugs him and runs down the hall to reach her office, leaving Harry alone to take the lift. He feels more at peace right now than he has in a very long time. He has just to owl Draco, and hope that he can be convincing enough to make him come to Hogwarts with him. Piece of cake, really.

HP-HP-HP-HP

Draco's answer comes early in the morning, brought by a big brown owl that bites Harry on the hand and steals a piece of toast from his plate before flying away.

_Harry,_

_I'll meet you in Hogwarts at 4 pm. Do not be late and wear something decent. And before you ask, I give in so easily because I'm sure you will not leave me in peace until I do. _

_Draco_

_P.S. Horus is as friendly as Severus was. I hope he didn't bite you too hard. By the way, I hope your wards will let him through. Well… If not, I suppose you will not read those lines._

Harry has indeed changed the wards to let owls from Hermione or Draco come through. It has been hard, to do so. He has almost let his paranoia got the better of him, before admonishing himself for being so silly. He has to trust them. He has to trust again, or he'll go crazy. But Merlin, it's hard. The only thing that makes him feel a bit better is that Draco must have the same problem. And maybe they can learn again together. Tomorrow they'll be back in Hogwarts, the place where they hated each other so much and hopefully it will not break the fragile new friendship - or whatever they have together. He's not sure he could stand it.

Fuck. _Wear something decent_. What the hell does that mean?


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Mild violence

**AN: **it's late and I'm off to bed, hoping I didn't leave to many mistakes. R&R please!

Harry tugs nervously on his robes as he waits for Draco in front of Hogwarts main gate. He has finally chosen forest green open robes, with black trousers and jumper. His only other "decent" set of robes is red – a gift from Ginny, who had never understood why Harry never wore them, even if Harry had told her countless times that he didn't particularly like red. He's pretty sure that green suits him more, with his green eyes and jet-black hair. Well, he hopes so. Moreover Harry didn't want to come to Hogwarts wearing Gryffindor colors. That would have been counterproductive. He uselessly raises a hand to flatten his hair – it's a lost battle anyway.

When Draco apparates a few meters away, Harry wishes he had gone to Madam Malkins and bought new robes. Draco wears traditional black robes with silver lining and a high collar. It makes his pale skin and hair stand out even more, and it's both striking and intimidating. Which is probably exactly what Draco wants. Harry fidgets under Draco's examination, until a smile spreads across his new friend's face.

"Not bad, Harry. Shall we?"

Harry just nods, and they soon find themselves in front of the gargoyle that leads to the Headmaster's – well, Headmistress now – office. Draco suddenly reaches for Harry's hand, and there's a new shadow in his eyes.

"Go and talk to McGonagall. I've… I've got something to do. Whatever you decide with her, I agree. I'll find you later."

He's gone before Harry can say anything, his black robes billowing around him exactly the way Snape's had. Harry sighs and whispers the password – "Fawkes", as Hermione had told him – and tries to focus on what he wants to tell Minerva.

A long hour later, he finds Draco where he thought he would be. In the Astronomy Tower. Standing exactly at the same place he had the evening Dumbledore died. Looking nearly as lost, too.

"Draco? Are you okay?

-I don't know.

-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked you to come.

-I was the one to agree, Harry. You didn't force me to.

-Yes, but… I can manage on my own, if you want to go home. If it's too much.

-Isn't it too much for you? " Draco turns around and smirks at him. Harry nearly sighs with relief at the familiar expression. "Because if you can do it, I can too.

-There's no need to be so competitive, Draco.

-So, what are we going to do here?

-Minerva wants us to stay for dinner, and make a short speech afterwards. I'll talk if you prefer. And… she would like us to stay overnight, and to go in every class tomorrow morning to speak with students, answer questions, that sort of things.

-It's fucking annoying to be your friend, you know. Well, let's go do the right thing, then. What will you say to them, anyway?

-I'll find something.

-Improvising, Harry? Salazar, this will be a long evening."

HP-HP-HP-HP

"This is weird.

-Yes, it is."

Draco and Harry sit at the professors table in the Great Hall for dinner. Harry feels exceptionally self-conscious, with all eyes on them. Draco looks like he's just swallowed a whole lemon, and there's a blue vein pulsing on his brow. Harry expected their sudden appearance at Hogwarts to be quite a surprise, but there is an almost reverent silence in the Great Hall that he cannot understand. The unasked question must show on his face, because Draco answers him, his drawling voice like steel.

"They're amazed to see their hero, Harry. You're a living legend, you know. And you've been very rarely seen for the past months.

-Yes, well, I wish they would just eat for now. They can gape all they want while I'll be talking later, but I'd like to eat something peacefully before.

-Good luck with that. Some of them are probably taking pictures under the tables. And I'm pretty sure I heard a Raveclaw talking about selling his memories later.

-What?

-I'm joking, Harry. It's a bit worrying that you are so gullible, to be honest."

Harry smiles, because he knows exactly what Draco is trying to do. And it's almost working, too. He feels a little less nervous. Merlin, how he hates talking in public. Minerva suddenly stands up and cast a Sonorus Spell on her own throat. Harry does the same, barely touching his throat with one finger, and he can feel Draco's stare on him. But it's not disgust or fear that Harry sees in the grey eyes. It's more like… awe? He suddenly feels more confident.

"My dear students, tonight we have the great honor to welcome Mr. Harry Potter and Mr. Draco Malfoy. Both were students here not so long ago, and I must say I've rarely been so proud of students like I am of these two young men. And I would like you to listen carefully to what they have to say. Harry?

-Erm, yes, right. As you certainly read in the newspaper, or heard from your friends, there has been an incident a few days ago. Draco Malfoy and I were shopping in Diagon Alley when we were verbally and physically assaulted by several witches and wizards. But what you maybe don't know is that other people have been beaten up, their houses burned to the ground, their jobs taken from them. They are threatened, insulted, segregated. All this because of who their families are, because of the mistakes their parents or themselves once made, because of their name, because of the House they were sorted in at school. And that is not acceptable. That's not the kind of world we fought for. You may wonder why I'm telling you all this while you are only students. I think there is something you should know about Draco and I. When we were in Hogwarts, we hated each other. We came from different worlds, we were sorted in different houses, and we had different upbringings. We did not once try to know each other. We just assumed that because we were so different, we could not get along. Even worse, we assumed that because we were different, we had to hate each other. But we were wrong, and I'm glad that we came together today, and I'm deeply honored to have his friendship. I'm ashamed of my behavior as a student in Hogwarts, because many things could have been different if only I had not been so set on my ways. I would like you to think about it. Please do not always listen to what you are told about other families, other houses. Make your own mind. Give a chance to others, and don't judge them too quickly."

Harry sits down, breathing heavily and flushing. He hopes he has not made a complete fool of himself. He vaguely hears Minerva explaining that they will be visiting classes the next morning, and he finally dares looking at Draco, expecting a smirk – or worse, one of his trademark mean sneer. But Draco isn't smirking – instead he's looking at Harry as if he has never seen him before, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. He slowly raises his right hand, and touches his chest, just above his heart, his eyes never leaving Harry's. Harry smiles, and Draco blushes slightly, like he's ashamed of his own gesture.

"You know Harry, you really should consider asking Hermione to work on your speeches. I think you could have killed Voldemort that way. Boring him to death, I mean."

Harry bursts out laughing, and Draco helps himself a slice of chocolate cake, his smirk firmly in place.


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Mild violence

**AN: **New chapter! I will probably update less regularly for the next days - busy keeping the kids from setting the Christmas tree in fire and cooking for Christmas Eve. But I'll be still working on it, don't worry! And I've reached a decision concerning Ron, thanks for your help! Reviews are always nice ^^

Someone is screaming. Terrified and terrifying screams, heavy with anguish and fear. Harry sits up in bed, feeling disoriented as he wakes up in an unknown bed. Minerva has given him and Draco adjacent bedrooms in the visitors' quarter after they had a drink with all the professors in the staff room. The bedroom is pitch dark and Harry struggles to disentangle himself from the sheets to stand up and blindly reach for the door, before he remembers he's a damn wizard and light the candles. Draco's still screaming – it has to be him, since there's no one else staying in those quarters. Has someone somehow manage to get past the wards to attack him?

He understands as soon as he opens the communication door. Draco is trashing wildly on his bed, screaming his throat raw as he fights something in his nightmare. There's a tortured expression on his beautiful face and his hair is damp with sweat.

Harry silently makes his way to the bed, pondering the best way to wake up the blonde without being hit or hexed. Draco's tee-shirt has gone up a little and Harry can see the ugly scars again. He kneels on the bed and carefully puts his hands on Draco's shoulders, trying not to startle him – he knows it will make things worse. He calls his friend's name softly, several times, before grey eyes snap open.

"Draco? You're awake, you're safe. It's okay now. Do you understand? It was a nightmare, only a nightmare. You're safe. I'm here.

-Of course you're here. You're the bloody Savior."

The words are meant to be snappish but the voice is hoarse and broken. Harry's hands are still on the blonde's shoulders, his thumbs tracing absent circles.

"You okay now?"

Draco pushes on the bed to sit up, and Harry sits back on his heels, letting his hands fall on his knees. They are far too close for comfort, but one look at Draco's face makes Harry refrain to back away. There are tears in the proud man's eyes, and Harry wants nothing more than to look away, but he cannot.

"I have Dreamless Sleep potions. Do you want some?

-No.

-It's the last batch you sent me, it's safe.

-I said no.

-Why?

-Because I deserve the nightmares."

Harry's sleepy mind needs a few seconds to process Draco's quiet whisper.

"What? That's fucking rubbish. Why would you deserve this? Draco…"

Harry sighs, suddenly understanding what this is about. He takes Draco in his arms a bit awkwardly, and the other man is stiff and completely still in the embrace.

"You have to stop this. Stop punishing yourself. You don't deserve the nightmares more than I do. You have to forgive yourself."

Draco slowly let his head fall, resting his forehead on Harry's shoulder, and lets out a shuddering breath. The dark-haired man carefully lets them both sink on the bed, so that he's lying on his back, Draco cradled in his side.

"Do you want me to get you water or something?

-No." Draco says, and he tightens his hold on Harry's waist, and Harry understands the unspoken words. _No, but don't leave_.

"You know, there's something I've been wanting to ask you for a while.

-What now?

-How do you do this robes-billowing thing, just like Snape did?"

Draco chuckles in Harry's chest, and the awkward moment is broken. Harry smiles and lets them both drift back to sleep, hoping there will be no more shadows of their past for tonight.

HP-HP-HP-HP

Harry wakes up slowly, feeling warm and content. He stretches like a cat, enjoying the rested state of his body. Then he opens his eyes, and stays frozen.

Draco's watching him, a carefully blank look on his face.

"Erm… Good morning?

-What are you doing here, Potter?

-Oh! You had a nightmare and I woke you up, remember?

-I remember, thanks. What I mean is: what did you stay here?

-I think we just got back to sleep, and I… I thought you wanted me to stay. I mean… Most of the time I wish I were not alone when I wake up like that at night. I thought… I'm sorry if I misunderstood. I'll just go now.

-Eloquent as ever, Harry. Now shut up and let me drowse for a while.

-What? You just looked like you were going to hex me into next century, and now you want to get back to sleep?

-I still might hex you if you don't shut up."

Slytherins. Harry is fairly sure they actually are made differently from other humans. He needs a shower to clear his mind, so he stands up and makes his way to the bathroom, trying not to think too much of how good he has felt, waking up with Draco. Or how it had been to hold him, to comfort him. It doesn't make sense anyway, this feeling of belonging, of deep contentment, of... What's wrong with him again now?

HP-HP-HP-HP

Talking to students isn't as difficult as Harry feared. Granted, some of them are annoying, asking inane questions about him and all the rumors the newspapers are so full of, and Draco is a pain in the ass, doing a fine job of making Harry feels like a moron half of the time, but all in all, it's not so bad. The blonde menace actually laughs when a seventh-year girl asks Harry if he's in a relationship and tries to invite him for a Butterbeer in Hogsmead, leaving Harry to blush profusely for at least ten minutes.

Draco's mood seems rather good today, and he's looking far more relaxed than he was the day before. That is, until they walk down the corridor after their last class.

"So, getting on your knees for the Savior now, Malfoy? Is this how you saved your sorry ass after the war?

-What did you just say?" Harry knows he's nearly growling, and raw magic is dangerously crackling around him. He needs to calm down, and quickly, but his anger is having the better of him. Draco snorts and comes to stand between him and a tall boy with brown hair and little black eyes.

"What's your name, boy?

-Piers Parkinson.

-Oh, I see. Related to that dear Pansy, are you?

-She's my cousin. And she told me very interesting tales about you. Fucking shirt-lifter."

Draco snorts as Harry's still fighting for control.

"There's a lot of things in my life I'm ashamed of, Piers. Things that wouldn't let you sleep at night for months, if you knew. But you're insulting me about my sexuality? Really?"

The blonde takes a step forward, and Piers Parkinson begins to look less confident.

"Let me tell you something, Piers. It's not wise to attack someone as powerful as Harry Potter. But it's even less wise to attack someone like me. I'm not a good man. I'm not noble as Harry is. I do not play fair. I don't care about what people say about me, but I care about Harry. So trust me, if I learn that you are spreading lies about him, I'll make you regret it. Now get out of my way. All of you."

The few students still around quickly follow Piers, leaving Harry and Draco alone.

"Harry? Breathe, Harry, in and out, in and out, you can do it. He's not worth it, calm down. I'm not worth it. That's it, it'll be alright now." Draco's voice is soft and soothing, and his hand is warm on Harry's shoulder. They make their way out of the castle, and Draco apparates both of them away as soon as they reach the gate.


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Mild violence

**AN: **Here you are! Hope you'll enjoy it! R&R please!

Harry crashes on the couch, trying to get his magic and breathing under control, his head buried in his hands, eyes tightly closed. Draco kneels in front of him, and gently takes his hands away from his face.

"It's okay. What do you need? What do you usually do to calm down in such situations?

-You should go, Draco. It's not safe for you. Go, please. I need to be alone.

-That's bullshit. You would never hurt me. You're too much of a Gryffindor, you would never hurt anyone if you could avoid it.

-Ginny and-

-Have you ever hurt her? Have you ever hurt any of your friends with you magic, even when you have difficulties to control it? Blowing or setting things on fire, yeah. Hurting someone? No. Give yourself a little credit, Harry.

-No… It'll be worse if I have to worry about you, I can't…

-You won't hurt me. Now stop hyperventilating. I won't leave."

And astonishingly, Harry can feel himself slowly calming down, with his hands in Draco's and their breaths nearly mingling. His panic progressively recedes as his magic wraps itself more tightly around him, getting back to its normal state.

"There. Better?

-Actually, yes.

-See? I'm always right. I'll try to make decent tea with whatever you have in this room you call a kitchen. Rest for now."

Harry leans back in the couch. Draco was right. After the first raw bursts of magic a few weeks after the final battle, his friends – including Ginny, his girlfriend at the time – had been afraid of him, whether they had admitted it or not. And he had become more and more unsure of himself, to the point where he didn't trust himself in the same room with his friends whenever it happened. Even if he had in fact never hurt anyone. Maybe he really didn't need to be left alone when his magic goes berserk. Maybe what he needs is someone who trusts him enough to stay. Someone who steadies him, who holds him and doesn't let him push them away. Someone who's stubborn enough not to do what Harry wants them to. Maybe he needs Draco. And isn't that terrifying.

Harry stands up and goes to the kitchen. Draco is sniffing at the tea leaves with a frown, and he shakes his head before letting them fall in the teapot. Harry leans in the doorway, wondering at the graceful and precise movements Draco makes, looking at the way the silver-blond locks brush the pale face and neck, and hoping to hell he will not fuck this up, because he cannot lose Draco's friendship.

"Harry, you have to buy real tea. For all I know, this thing could be dried grass. Smells like it, too."

Harry startles a little but recovers quickly.

"Don't be such a snobbish prat. It's perfectly good tea. I'll have you know I've been drinking it for years.

-Exactly what I'm saying. You're not looking so healthy, you know. Are you sure you didn't have any hallucinations after drinking this?"

Harry chuckles and Draco flashes him an evil grin. Yes, there's no way Harry can lose this friendship.

HP-HP-HP-HP

"No way, Potter. I would rather Crucio myself.

-Come on, Draco, it won't be so bad.

-A lovely lunch with Granger and Weasley? Of course it will be bad. Though I could bring myself to tolerate Granger, since she's at least an intelligent girl, and she had come to her senses where you are concerned. But Weasley?

-Ron's a good guy.

-No. George Weasley is a good guy. He didn't leave. He helped you as much as he could. And he even helped us out the other day. Plus, he's quite funny, I have to admit. But Ronald Weasley? I don't think I'll survive.

-Draco, please. I don't think I can go alone. And George is working. And… you're in this with me, aren't you? You've got to be there too, if we are to discuss what we're doing next with Hermione. Please?

-Fuck, Harry. I should have known it was a bad idea to talk to you in the cemetery. And don't make those puppy eyes with me, it won't work. I know perfectly well there's an evil Slytherin in you. Making me have lunch with the Weasel. Honestly."

Harry smiles broadly at Draco's scowl. Hermione had come through the Floo a little earlier, and they had exchanged news for a while, drinking a cup of the expensive tea Draco had made him buy. Harry has to admit that it's better that his own. A lot better, to be honest. Anyway, apparently Hermione had been quite busy with Kingsley and Arthur, gathering files, working on Kingsley's speech – which was scheduled next Monday – and probably driving half the ministry's employees crazy. They had agreed to meet on Sunday for lunch, and Hermione had timidly asked if Ron could come, too. Hence the current discussion with Draco. They're sitting in the kitchen again, and it's the best Saturday evening Harry has experienced for a long time. Draco has cooked a wonderful fish curry with Kreacher's help, and the kitchen is even looking less gloomy than usual, since Harry has cleaned it and lit two dozens of candles. It's easy and it's relaxing to have Draco around, and even if they're as different as they can be, they're more alike than they could have guessed.

"Do you want to stay here?" Harry blurts out, and Draco chokes on his curry.

"Excuse me?

-I mean…" Harry feels the heat on his face, and really, it becomes ridiculous how often he blushes now. "We could be roommates, if you wanted. The house is big enough, it's safe, and you're here every day anyway. You could make a potions lab in the basement, or go to Spinner's End to work, if you prefer. It's nice to have someone around, and I thought… I mean… But if you don't want, I understand…"

Harry shuts up, wondering why he can't be arsed to make coherent sentences sometimes. It's really annoying to feel like a bumbling fool.

"Harry. You're aware that there will be hell to pay if people hear that I'm living with you, right?

-I won't tell anyone, except my friends, I don't see how anybody would know. But if I understand if you don't want to, I mean people usually think I'm crazy and dangerous and…

-You think I'm worried about what people would say about me? You're really something else, Harry, you know."

Harry blinks. Twice.

"Harry, for fuck's sake! I'm a former Death Eater. I'm gay. What do you think people would think?

-I don't care about that!

-Well that's the problem with you! You have no sense of self-preservation!

-I don't care. George told me once that I saved them all, and that it was time to ask for something in return.

-I always thought he was smart.

-Well, I want two things. I want peace and safety for all in the Wizarding World. And I'd like to do what I want with my life. Did you know I died at the final battle?

-I think we all died a little that day.

-Yes, but I really died. And then I came back. That's when your mother saved me. I had to die to kill Voldemort, because there was a fucking piece of his soul in me. I was meant to die, all those years. It was Severus who told me. Before he died, he gave me his memories. So I went to the Forbidden Forest to meet Voldemort, and to fucking die to save all those people. I was seventeen, and I had to walk to my own death. Then I came back, only to kill that madman and to be left alone with my grief and my nightmares and my wild magic like a useless weapon. Well, I've had enough. I'm alive, and I will live my life as I see fit. So no, I don't fucking care what will be said about me. They'll always find something anyway, whether it's true or not doesn't matter.

Harry's breathing heavily now, and Draco is looking at him with wide eyes. Shit. He didn't want to tell all these things. But at the same time, he feels better now that he has said them. Hopefully Draco will not freak out too much.

"I'm sorry, I-

-Don't apologize. You're just…

-A freak?" Harry winces.

"I was going to say you're just really a hero, aren't you? Is there any limit to your selflessness? I can't believe Dumbledore and Severus knew you had to die, all those years. Shit. How you were able to just go to him and… It's beyond me. Are you sure you want me to stay here?

-Only if you want to."

Draco just shakes his head with a sad smile, and Harry knows he will stay. He has to.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Mild violence

**AN: **I'd like to thank all my wonderful reviewers, and all the people who are following/favoriting my story. I'm really amazed... So, yeah, thanks a lot for your support and kind words, it means a lot to me! So, here's the new chapter, as always, R&R please!

« So, there are four bedrooms on this floor, and the bathroom is just there." Harry opens one door after the other, hoping Draco will find it to his taste – one can always wish. "That's the master bedroom. It was Sirius' before he... Well, it's mine now. It's the only room I redecorated, I couldn't sleep in there otherwise.

-It's actually nice, Harry. I'm impressed. This pale green for the walls is a good idea.

-Thanks." Harry knows he's grinning stupidly. When the hell has it become important what Draco thinks of his taste in decoration? "Erm, well. Here's Teddy's bedroom, even if... You can choose one of the other two. You will want to redecorate, though, I'm afraid the Blacks' idea of homely translates in "black and gloomy".

-I'll take this one." Draco points the room next to Harry's, which is actually the bigger one of the two remaining rooms. "Speaking of Teddy... Care to explain why Andromeda sent me a letter last week, after she read about our little adventure in Diagon Alley? She was hoping I could convince you to visit her and Teddy. Said it's been a year since they last saw you.

-She wrote to you?

-Well, she's my aunt, you know. Even if I don't know her at all. But I guess I will soon. So, when are we going?

-We're not."

Harry can feel his jaw clench. He doesn't want to think about Teddy. He doesn't want to think about the carefully prepared bedroom that will never be used. He turns around – not to flee, just to... hide a bit. But Draco catches his upper arm in a strong grip, preventing any escape. He forces Harry to face him before he talks again.

"Harry... What's wrong? You're a Gryffindor, you like kittens and puppies and kids. Why don't you want to see Teddy? He's your godson, I thought you will be happy to be there for him. I know family matters to you, and he's your family now.

-I can't! I thought I could be a good godfather to him, visit him and take care of him and teaching him Quidditch and tell him about his parents and have him here overnight sometimes, but I can't. I'm too damaged.

-And how not seeing your godson will help you?

-It's not about me!

-Of course it's about you! Because if it was about him, you would see that he needs you! He already lost his parents – and don't you dare say it was your fault, because it was not – so he needs you even more! So what's the problem? Does he remembers you too much of his parents?"

Damn Draco for being so intuitive. And damn him for not being able to hide what he desperately wants to hide, Harry muses. He has to choke back a sob, and the hand on his arm looses a bit, the grip gentler but always there. He can't look Draco in the eye, and he hates how weak his voice sounds to his own ears.

"I see them dying. Every. Fucking. Night. All of them. Sirius. Dumbledore. Snape. I see Fred, Remus and Tonks. I even see my mother. They all die over and over again. And Teddy... He has Remus' eyes, and he keeps on changing his hair like Tonks, and... I just can't."

His knees are weak, but Draco doesn't let go of his arm, so they end up sitting together on the floor, their back to the hallway's wall. Draco's hand leaves, but soon the blonde's arm is wrapped around Harry's trembling shoulders. The drawling voice echoes curiously in the near darkness, but it's reassuring to hear it all the same.

"I have several recurrent nightmares. Which is not so surprising since that fucking psychotic madman actually lived in my house for months. But I have one nightmare that's a bit different, because instead of reliving horrible things I've witnessed – or done – this one shows me something that actually didn't happen. It always begins with fire. So much fire. And I'm waiting for you to come and save me. I'm sure you'll come, even if I don't deserve it, even if I tried to kill you once more. And then you're here, just like I knew you would, flying on that broom. So I raise my hand, I know you'll take it. But you don't. You just look at me with that sad expression on your face, and you shake your head, whispering "it's too late for you". Then you're gone, and I burn.

-I would never have let you there.

-I know. And that's why Teddy needs you. Because you're a good man, Harry. Fuck, you're probably the bravest and strongest and kindest man I've ever met, even if you're an idiot most of the time. Teddy needs you to show him that he can survive and become someone good and strong, just like you did. And you probably need him too, to show you that life goes on, and that it's worth living it."

Harry turns in head a bit, hiding his face in Draco's neck, letting his warmth and scent slowly calm him. He hears the heartbeat of the other man, strong and regular, like the proof that this time, he's not alone with his fears and his insecurities. Then he chuckles a bit, his lips against Draco's soft, soft skin.

"Who are you and what have you done with Draco Malfoy?

-Don't get used to it, Potter. I won't let my inner Huffelpuff show in this century again."

They finally get up, and after a two Floo-travels to Spinner's End to bring what he will need, Draco settles in the room next to Harry's, complaining about dust and doxies and bed bugs, but hanging the few clothes he has brought in the wardrobe all the same. Kreacher brings clean bedclothes as they're cleaning the room as best as they can – and Harry wonders where the old house-elf has hidden those sheets all this time, because he's pretty sure he never saw them before. He has to sleep in old worn cotton sheets, but Kreacher has given Draco soft cream colored sheets that look like satin or silk or something equally luxurious. Life is really unfair. Draco shooes Harry out of his new room, pretending he needs a lot of sleep in order to be ready for the next day. Harry hopes Ron and Draco will not end up hexing each other. He's a bit anxious to meet Ron again. But Hermione and Draco will be there, too. Maybe it won't be so hard.

Harry lays awake in bed for a long time that night. It's such a relief to know that someone else now lives here with him. And not anybody. A friend, a real friend, one who trusts him and whom he trusts in return. One who understands what it's like to be broken to the point where you don't know if you'll ever be fixed. And what's more, someone who protects him as much as Harry will protect them. An equal.

Well, someone who would likely drive him crazy more often than not, if he's honest with himself. They will probably argue over anything. But they will laugh and tease each other and talk about darkness and nightmares, too. There's this warm feeling in Harry's chest, again, especially when he remembers how it has felt to be hold in the blonde's arms. How his skin has felt under Harry's lips, like a barely there kiss – but not quite. But he doesn't want to think too much about it, not now at least. Now that he knows that Draco is gay – and isn't that a huge surprise – there's a whole new range of possibilities about which Harry doesn't want to think. Not now that everything seems to finally get a little better. He'll worry about this new problem later. Much later. Possibly never.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Mild violence

**AN:** To answer many questions I got: like I'm writing since first chapter, yes, it will be slash, but no, it won't be graphic smut. Now, what about an early Christmas present? Lucky you ^^! Reviews for me, please?

"What the hell is he doing here?"

That will be tough. Ron's face is already an ugly shade of crimson, and it's clashing awfully with his red hair. Draco and Harry are already sitting at a dirty table in the Hog's Head when Hermione and Ron come in. Abelforth has closed his pub so that they can talk without disturbance. Harry winces at Ron's exclamation and sees Hermione whispering urgently in her boyfriend's ear.

"I don't care if he's part of this project or not! Why would we trust him?" Ron turns toward Draco, who sits very still next to Harry. "What do you want from this, Malfoy? How did you trick Harry in believing you? I can't believe-

-That's rich coming from you, Weasley. I didn't see you around-" Draco stops abruptly as Harry puts his hand on his arm. Harry hopes Draco understands his silent plea. Apparently he does, because he takes a long intake of breath, as if calming himself, and then he looks at Hermione with a polite smile. "Hello, Hermione. How are you?"

Ron gapes at him, as if he can't believe what he hears and sees. Harry himself can barely believe that Draco has instantly changed his behavior. For him. He feels a sudden surge of affection for the blonde, threatening to overwhelm him, and he squeezes Draco's arm to thank him. Hermione smiles brightly and greets them both kindly, before sitting in front of them. Ron's still standing, but it's not Draco he's looking at anymore. His blue eyes are on Harry, something akin to pain in them, and Harry can't stand it.

"Ron... It's good to see you. Sit down, please."

Ron only nods and sits next to Hermione, and she pats his knee kindly.

"Mate, I'm sorry. How are you?

-I'm better, Ron". And Harry realizes with a start that it's actually true. He used to always answer "I'm fine", the lie coming easily over the years. But today he's told the truth. He's not fine, but he's better. Harry can't help smiling at his best friend.

"Good, mate. Great. We've been worried about you." Draco fidgets in his chair, and Harry knows he's refraining from saying something. Probably something rude. Ron sighs before asking with a frown "But what are you doing with Malfoy? Did he do something to you?

-Ron! You're really a prat sometimes! I wonder why I even bother with you!" Hermione glares at Ron, her arms crossed on her chest. "Draco's been good to Harry. Can't you see? He has been there when we weren't. I'm grateful for whatever he did that brings this Harry back. We're adults now. If you can't behave, then go, Ron. And believe me, we will discuss that later. With Molly, too."

Ron winces slightly at the threat, and seems to think about it. Draco smirks and there's an evil gleam in his eyes, and Harry wants to laugh.

"Okay, okay. But don't insult me or my family, Malfoy.

-I won't if you won't.

-Fair enough. So, what's that big plan of yours? Hermione keeps talking about you and Kingsley and changing the world. Seems pretty cool."

And soon it's almost like they've never been away from each other, Hermione talking animatedly, Ron making rude jokes and Harry nodding and laughing at them both. The Golden Trio. Maybe they'll be alright. Maybe he can forgive them for leaving. After all, he pushed them away, too. Harry glances at Draco, and feels a pang at the sight. Draco has leaned back in his chair, and he's looking at his hands in his lap with a blank expression which Harry doesn't like one bit. Does Draco feel left out? Does he think Harry will let him down, now that his friends are back?

"I thought I could speak with Draco, after Kingsley's speech tomorrow.

-I was thinking of it, too." Hermione answers with a smile. "It would be good if people see you together, see that you're really friends. It's exactly the type of examples we need to make our point.

-Are you up to it, Draco?" The blonde raises an eyebrow and snorts.

"I already told you, Harry. If you can do it, then I can too.

-It's settled, then. We'll work on it this afternoon, Hermione."

Abelforth brings a plate of turkey sandwiches and a pitcher of pumpkin juice, and they all help themselves. Harry notes that Hermione seems to have no appetite, merely playing with her sandwich.

"Hermione? Is something wrong?

-No, I just..." She bits her lip and takes a big blue file out of her bag. "We found something else while we were researching files at the Ministry with Arthur, but I'm not sure whether we should use it or not.

-Why?

-Because it concerns children. And I... I'm not sure you should see it, Harry. It might be a little difficult to handle.

-Just tell me."

And Hermione tells them about the wizarding orphanages that are all full after the war. And especially bout the Death Eaters' children whose parents are either dead or locked in Azkaban, and how nobody wants to adopt them. Draco takes Harry's hand in his, and Harry feels the grey eyes on him the whole time. Harry thinks of those children. He thinks of Teddy, too. He wants to cry. He wants to drink and fall into a deep and dark slumber, where no child is hurting. He wants to fight for them. He feels lost and small, all of a sudden.

"What do you want me to do about it, Hermione?

-Nothing, Harry. It's not your fault and it's not your responsibility. Well, it's everybody's. Kingsley agreed to a new law, forbidding telling adoptive parents who the biological parents of their children are. And I thought you could maybe talk about them tomorrow. The Wizarding World is behaving as if those children simply don't exist.

-I'll do it.

-We'll do it" Draco corrects, letting go of Harry's hand to stand up.

They exit the pub, waving at Abelforth who smiles kindly behind the counter. They barely make three steps outside when it happens. Six masked wizards are suddenly in front of them, wands drawn. Harry sees Ron stepping in front of Hermione, his own wand in hand and a fierce but composed expression on his face – Auror training. Draco shifts beside him, but Harry keeps his gaze on the threat.

"We want the Death Eater. We don't want to harm you. Just go.

-Are you kidding me? You threaten us all. You just go, and we might not hex you into next week." Ron's voice is deep and calm, but the wizard who has talked just laugh. Then he looks straight at Draco, and Harry can see the way his hand holds the wand tighter, the way his eyes narrow and he knows a spell is coming. Without thinking, he launches himself at Draco, making them both fall to the ground, and he hears the shouted spell at the same time. It hits him on the back of his neck, and he doesn't recognize the words, but it's suddenly hard to breath, and there is blood in his throat. What the fuck is this spell? He lies on the ground while his friends are fighting – he can hear Ron's and Draco's angry shouted spells and Hermione's carefully whispered ones. Then Ron's face appears, sweaty and concerned.

"No you don't, mate. No way. We didn't survive all those years to let you die now. Hang on.

-Draco, take him to St Mungo's, we deal with them." Hermione's voice is slightly hushed and trembling, like she's trying not to cry. But they're safe, they're all safe, and Harry feels better. He tries to focus, but it's too hard. There's blood in his mouth, in his nose, and his head is spinning. Then he looks into grey pools – beautiful silver grey with small ice-blue flecks, and it's alright. He lets the darkness take him. All is well.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Mild violence

**AN:** I hope you all had a peaceful and happy Christmas! Got this new chapter done yesterday night, but I couldn't log in. So, anyway, enjoy - and of course, review!

"Of all the stupid things to do! What a fucking, fucking, fucking idiot-

-Yeah, yeah, I think we covered that, Draco. About two dozen times, too. Now shut up and come with me, Kingsley wants to see you. Just hope he doesn't hex us. I suspect he knows pretty vicious spells."

Ron's voice is teasing, and Draco snorts in response. A door is softly shut closed and silence falls over him. If he could just open his eyes… There's far too much light, and Harry has to shut his eyes closed again because of the sharp pain in his head. He tries again, keeping his eyelids carefully down. White ceiling, white walls, and white bed sheets. Shit. He's in St Mungo's. Then he remembers the attack, the unknown spell, the blood in his mouth and throat slowly choking him. He raises a trembling hand to touch his throat. He feels alright, even if a bit sore, but his body seems weak and unresponsive.

"Harry? Oh my God, Harry, are you awake?

-Hermione?

-How do you feel?

-Like I've been hit by the Hogwarts Express. But it could have been worse, I guess."

Hermione sits on the bed next to him, and takes his hand. She looks tired, and deeply relieved.

-Don't worry, I still will make that speech tomorrow with Kingsley.

-Harry… Today is Tuesday.

-What?

-You've been unconscious for the last two days. We've been worried sick. The Healers were not sure if… It was a dark spell, Harry. A very dark spell.

-What does it do?" Harry whispers.

"It makes you bleed, Harry. It makes all organs and intern tissues bleed till death. You only survived because your magic is so strong that it was able to keep the spell in your neck and throat. When Draco brought you to St Mungo's you were already in a deep magical coma. The Healers could only try to remove as much Dark Magic as they could, give you Blood Replenishing Potions and hope you would make it." Hermione is nearly sobbing now, tears rolling down her pale face. "You saved Draco's life, Harry. He would be dead without you."

They're silent for a while. Then Hermione calls a Healer to check on Harry. He's as fine as possible considering what his body has been through. He's weak, though, and the Healer tells him he will need as much rest as possible for the next weeks. No stress, no magic, no physical strain. When the Healer is gone, Hermione helps Harry to sit up in the bed.

"Hermione… Did Kingsley make his speech anyway yesterday?

-Oh yes he did. I don't think I've seen him angry at all before, but yesterday he was downright furious. His speech lasted one hour. And then Draco and Ron spoke.

-They spoke together?

-Yes. Incredible, isn't? They talk about you, about what happened Sunday. They make quite the team you know. Ron said the Auror Department will hunt down anyone who'd commit such acts. And Draco… Well… He basically threatened everyone who would even try to harm you in any way. Kind of scary, if you ask me.

-He shouldn't have done that, people will make it even more difficult for him now…

-He feels responsible. Ron and him, they both feel that way for what happened, you know.

-What? Why would they?

-Ron thinks he should have reacted earlier, or differently. I told him it was stupid, but he blames himself anyway. And Draco… There's something you should know. Can you guess how they found him? No, I suppose not. There was a Tracking Spell on Draco. Probably put on him the day you were both assaulted in Diagon Alley. That's how they found us that day. I think both Spinner's End and Grimmauld Place are too heavily warded to allow the spell to work properly, but it activated as soon as you left the house on Sunday.

-Shit. It's sheer luck that we were with him…

-Yes. But he blames himself because of it. He could not stand the fact that you were injured because of him.

-I heard him before he left with Ron." Harry winces at the memory. "He said it was a stupid thing to do. Was he talking about this?

-Yes, you know how he is. But he didn't leave your side, you know. He even slept here both nights, in the chair. He only left to attend Kingsley's speech, and only when I swore I wouldn't leave you. I tried to tell him it wasn't his fault, and that you of all people would never blame him for it, but… he said you always were an idiot anyway." Hermione smiles at that, wiping her tear-stained face with the back of her hand.

"I'll tell him myself when he's back. And Ron, too."

Harry lies back on his pillows, still holding Hermione's hand. It feels good to have her at his side. And it feels good to know that Ron and Draco are fighting for him. Together. It feels so good that his eyes fill with tears at the mere thought, and Hermione holds her hand tighter.

HP-HP-HP-HP

Ron nearly crushes Harry with the force of his hug when he's back. The red-head doesn't say anything, he just looks for a while in Harry's eyes as Harry tells him nothing is his fault, and that he's glad that he and Draco are now getting along. He nods with a smile, and follows Hermione out of the room as she promises to visit him the next day. Draco stands near the bed, his blond head cocked to the side. His face is unreadable and he looks dead on his feet – there are dark shadows under his eyes that Harry has never seen before, and his fair skin is even paler than usual.

"Draco? Are you alright?

-I believe the question is: are you alright, Harry?

-I'll be fine. And it wasn't your fault, or Ron's, or anyone beside the man who casted the spell. I'm alright, and Hermione told me our attackers are in Azkaban, waiting for their trial. So there's nothing you should worry about. Did you sleep at all in that awful chair? You look exhausted."

Draco doesn't answer Harry's question. In fact, he doesn't even move at all.

"Healer Stone just told me you can go home tonight. We've checked the house with Ron, it looks alright. We thought it would be safer to cut the Floo connection, though, at least for a while. You're in no condition to defend yourself, thanks to your bloody hero-complex. Ron agreed to sleep at Grimmauld Place for a few weeks. He will pick you up this evening and get you home.

-Why should he? Not that I don't want him there, but I don't think it's necessary. You're perfectly able to curse anyone into oblivion if it comes to that – and I'm sure it won't.

-I'm not coming with you. I'll pick my things and go back to Spinner's End tonight."

Harry just stares at Draco with disbelief. He's leaving? Why would he leave now? Granted, it won't probably be much fun to help Harry around for the next days, but… Wait. Wait, wait, wait.

"Draco. Tell me you're not leaving because you got the stupid idea that you're a danger to me?

-Well I am. And this is settled.

-Like hell it is. You'll stay with me because I need you, and because it's safer anyway. Please."

Harry can see the internal struggle in Draco's eyes, and he hopes Draco will reach the right decision. The one in which Harry isn't left again. He's not sure he could bear it. But Draco shakes his head, and Harry feels his chest constrict.

"It's for the best, Harry. For what it's worth, I'm sorry you were hurt. And I'd like…" The blonde seems to choose his words carefully, closing his eyes as he whispers quietly. "I'd like to thank you for what you tried to do for me. But I will not stay there and put you in danger needlessly. I want to be a better person. And it begins with being less selfish. Take care of yourself, Harry.

-Draco, if you leave now I won't forgive you. Don't. Please don't."

Harry knows he's begging, he knows he sounds pitiful and needy and weak, and he doesn't care. He just can't lose this. He cannot lose Draco. He watches helplessly as the blonde walks out and closes the door behind him, not once turning back to look at Harry. Come back, Harry thinks. Come back. Just as he closed his eyes, cursing the fate that makes him lose everyone he cares about, the door flies open. Draco walks the few steps to the bed, and leans forward to take a speechless Harry in his arms.

"Don't complain if I get you killed someday.

-I won't. Because if I die, I'm sure you won't have anything to do with it.

-You're an idiot.

-You may have mentioned it once or twice.

-It's obviously not enough, since you insist on being friend with someone like me."

Harry draws back, taking Draco's face in his still weak hands, hoping he's looking as serious as he feels.

"I do not insist on being your friend, as you put it. I just hope that this is what we are. I know you were trying to protect me by leaving, but trust me, you'll do a better job of it by staying. I feel better than I have over the last two years, and it's thanks to you. And we still have things to do, because there's no way we can just accept something like what has happened on Sunday. And I want to do something for the children, too.

-Gryffindors. Honestly, it's a miracle you manage to survive by yourself. You're just too kind for your own good, Harry.

-You know you like it."

Harry releases Draco's face and something flickers in the grey eyes, but it's gone so soon that he cannot recognize it.

"Yes Harry. As a matter of fact, I do."


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Mild violence

**AN:** I only got 2 reviews for the last 2 chapters. No, I'm not pouting. I'm just... sulking a bit, thank you very much. Ahem. So... Review? Pretty please?

The following weeks have passed in a blur for Harry. After a few days spent in bed to heal – this had actually been fucking annoying, especially the part where Draco had shown his most bossy and irritating sides – the two of them have been constantly working with Kingsley and Hermione (Harry does not include Ron, since his involvement consists in bringing Butterbeers and making jokes, sprawled on the couch). They have made countless speeches, and attended so much parties, dinners and officials events that Harry longs to spend two days in a row at home, for once.

Of course, Draco's doing great. He has perfect manners and always know what to do and what to say in public. After his much discussed speech with Ron, Harry has convinced him that threatening people with dark spells and "gruesome and painful deaths" was rather counterproductive, and since then the blonde has not only behaved, but become the Ministry's poster boy for a united and peaceful Wizarding World. Truth to be said, Harry feels a bit useless again, but he's happy to see Draco blossoming so much, putting on some much needed weight and not having nightmares anymore. He's become the fourth part of the Golden Trio and all of them have lunch or dinner together several times a week.

Harry… Harry's not doing so well. Nightmares are still bothering him every night, so that he still takes Dreamless Sleep Potions as often as he can. Draco provides him with them. The first two weeks, Draco has woken him each time. Until the… kiss. Thing. What had it been? Draco had woken him as usual, taking him in his arms, whispering quietly in his ear. Then Harry had turned his head to see him, and their lips had brushed. They had stared at each other, eyes wide with surprise, and something else. Draco had then hastily left the room, a deep blush on his pale face, leaving a very confused Harry. They've never talked about it.

Since that night, Harry casts Silencing Charms every night. Partly because he's ashamed to wake Draco at night when the blonde could sleep peacefully, since he's not having nightmares anymore. Since he's able to heal when Harry cannot. And partly because Harry doesn't want to think of that almost kiss, doesn't want to make Draco uncomfortable with it. It was obviously not welcome and had disturbed Draco. So here Harry is, brooding in the couch on Christmas Eve. Draco will leave in a few minutes, since Kingsley has given him an international Portkey to France, to allow him to spend Christmas with his mother. And Harry will go to the Burrow. Even if he feels more like drinking himself to oblivion in his couch.

"Harry? Are you okay?"

Harry looks up. Draco is watching him carefully, concern written all over his face. Harry only nods tiredly.

"I left your Dreamless Sleep Potion on your night table. Harry… Why are you still taking it? Just out of habit? Because it's been weeks since you last had a nightmare, and I would prefer you not to take potions if you don't need them.

-Well, I need them. Thanks" Harry snaps. Draco falls to his knees in front of him, and Harry wants nothing more than to flee. Instead, he closes his eyes tightly.

"What do you mean, you need them? Harry?

-Nothing. Say hello to your mother for me, will you? And-

-Harry, don't do that. What do you mean? I didn't hear you once. Do you still have nightmares?

-It's okay. I'm okay.

-No you're not. You look exhausted. Hermione asked me yesterday what was wrong with you… Talk to me, Harry. You don't sleep well, are you? "

Harry just shakes his head. No. He doesn't sleep well. If he sleeps at all, that is.

"Harry… Are you using Silencing Charms? Is this why I don't hear you?"

Harry stands up. He doesn't want to talk about it. He doesn't want Draco to know.

"I'll be fine. You should go, or you'll miss your Portkey and your mother will have my head" he jokes lamely. "I'll be off to the Weasleys anyway.

-Do you want to come with me?

-No, Christmas is about family." And I have none, Harry adds mentally. Draco stands up slowly.

"Yes, it's about family. And you're family to me, Harry. I hope you know that.

-The Weasleys are waiting for me. Go, Draco. I'll see you in two days. Oh! I almost forgot!" Harry retrieves a small square package with golden paper from his desk in the corner of the room. "This is for you. You'll open it tomorrow morning."

Draco looks at him, at the present, and at him again, looking completely at loss for words.

"You… You got me a Christmas present?

-Er… yes?" Harry suddenly hopes it wasn't a mistake. But then Draco smiles brilliantly at him, his grey eyes shining with joy, and hugs him with one arm.

"I've put your present on you bed. I hope you'll like it. Merry Christmas, Harry."

Then he's gone, and Harry steps into the Floo in a far better mood than he was just a few minutes before.

Christmas Eve at the Burrow is just as Harry expects: loud, joyful, and bittersweet. Everybody's there, Ginny with Dean, Ron and Hermione, Bill with Fleur and Victoire, Percy and Penelope… Charlie's brought a new Romanian girlfriend, and even Fred has come with a date: Katie Bell is smiling and joking, her head on Fred's shoulder. Harry is happy to be there again, to see them all. To know they're okay and happy. And at the same time, he feels lonelier here than he does in Grimmauld Place. Astonishingly, it's Ron who sees it first. In spite of his oblivious reputation and even after all these years, he still knows Harry very well.

"Missing him, aren't you?

-What? No. I just…

-You don't have to explain, Harry. I know it must be difficult for you this year. Want to play chess with me? Upstairs?"

Harry nods gratefully. They play chess for a while, drinking Firewiskey directly from the bottle and exchanging memories.

"You should talk to Draco, you know. He's been miserable for a while, wondering why you were so tired and withdrawn. He's been thinking he might have done something wrong.

-What? No, of course not.

-Do you want to tell me?

-I just… I'm tired you know. I'm so fucking tired. I still don't sleep well. And I can't stand to see them every night. I'm happy to have you back, I'm happy to have Draco living with me, and to do all those things for the Wizarding Community and for the children. I'm usually okay during daytime. It's just… I wish I could sleep. I wish I wouldn't see them every night. I don't know how longer I can bear it. I wish they would let me live, now.

-Mate…" Ron has a pained look on his face, and he seems to think about what he wants to say. "Maybe it's not about them letting you live. Maybe it's about you letting them go, Harry. You have to accept that. They're gone. And there is nothing you could have done to save them. Let them go. Give yourself a chance to live."

And here they are, the tears he has kept back for weeks. He feels Ron hug him awkwardly, patting him on the back and rocking him slightly.

"It'll be alright, mate. We won't leave you again. We're all there for you, you know that. You'll be okay, you'll see. Let it out."

When Harry gets home that night, he has blood shot eyes and a puffy nose, but he feels a bit lighter. Especially when he sees the big package Draco has left for him on his bed. He puts it carefully on the floor, smiling when he thinks that he'll open it tomorrow morning.

He dreams that night. But for once, there's no blood, no pain. It's not death and despair he dreams of that night. He dreams of silver-blond and red and bushy hairs. He dreams of chess and lunches with tasteful food and rude jokes and heavy files. He dreams of soft lips brushing his own in a barely there caress, in a feather-like kiss.


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Mild violence

**AN:** Two chapters today. I know, I've got you completely spoiled. Thank me with plenty of review, please ^^

A Firebolt Xtreme. Draco has bought him the best broom on the market for Christmas. There's a small note with it that reads _"Looking forward to play Quidditch with you again. Draco_". It's brilliant. Harry has not played Quidditch since Hogwarts, and playing with someone as good as Draco would be wonderful. Owls have brought other presents, and Harry smiles as he unwrap Hermione's and Ron's present. A broom set and Quidditch leather gloves. Draco must have told them what he was planning to buy. It's kind of cute, and it makes him nearly giddy. There's a Weasley jumper, too. He's pretty sure Draco will be horrified at the sight – it's bright red with a yellow H in the front. There's another present, in a silver box with a matching ribbon. Harry opens it, and then wishes he had not. In the box is a small leather book. Filled with photographs of Teddy. Harry finds it suddenly difficult to breath. Teddy as a baby in his parents' arms. In Harry's arms, after the war. Teddy as a toddler, with noodles all over his face. And the last one is certainly the worst. Teddy has blond hair, nearly white. And he's smiling brightly and holding someone's hand. Draco's hand.

Harry already knew that Draco has been visiting Andromeda from time to time, because the blonde has asked Harry to come each time. Andromeda has written something under the last photograph. "_Remember you still have a family. We love you, Harry, and our door will always be open for you."_

Harry is sitting on the couch, the leather book on his lap, when the Floo flares, and Draco steps into the room.

"Draco? Is something wrong? You weren't planning to stay in France till tomorrow?

-I was, but I changed my mind. I thought it would be a good idea to kick your ass in a Quidditch match." Draco smirks evilly, and Harry has to smile.

"Draco?

-Yes? Chickening out, Harry?

-You wish. Just… Would you bring me with you, next time you visit Andromeda and Teddy?"

Draco's smirk slowly changes into the kindest smile Harry has ever seen on the blonde.

"Of course, Harry. Of course. So? Ready to lose?

-Don't be so confident, Draco. I used to beat you to the snitch every time we played against each other.

-Yes, yes, we'll see!"

HP-HP-HP-HP

Harry hates parties. He always feels clumsy and useless. And the collar of the bronze robes Draco has insisted he wears is strangling him. Speaking of Draco, he's nowhere to be seen. Harry takes another of those fancy drinks with little umbrellas and fruits from the bar and turns around to have another look at the ball room. The Ministry New Year's party is popular, but Harry cannot really understand why. Too many people, too much noise, and not enough alcohol in the drinks. Hermione and Ron are dancing not far away and they wave at him with broad smiles. Harry doesn't understand why he's here. His friends are having fun without him, and nobody else will talk to him anyway – either they're too awed or afraid of the Boy Who Lived, or they remember Draco's and Ron's threats a few months ago.

Harry spots Draco. The blonde is looking perfect, as always, in pearl grey robes that match his eyes. Harry moves forward to meet Draco when he stops dead in his tracks. Draco is speaking with a tall man with auburn hair and dark eyes. The stranger looks self-confident and he's older, maybe in his early thirties. He looks at Draco with something like hunger in his eyes, and Draco doesn't seem to mind. The man touches Draco's chest, just above his heart, whispering something, and the blonde actually laughs, exposing his throat a little.

It hits Harry like a ton of bricks. Draco is interested in this man. And why wouldn't he? The auburn haired is flirting with assurance with him, and he's quite good-looking, Harry guesses. He seems… experienced. Harry doesn't like him at all. What does he want from Draco? Apart from the obvious, of course – and this is definitely something Harry doesn't want to think about. He doesn't want to think about Draco and the other man kissing, or touching, or… Well. Has this man an agenda concerning Draco? Has he ulterior motives? Should Harry do something about it?

But Draco seems to enjoy the man's attention and flirting. And Harry doesn't know if he's sincere or not. And there's of course the fact that Draco is more than able to take care of himself.

Merlin. Will Draco bring that man home? Harry feels sick to his stomach. He has to leave. And he has to leave now, before he does something stupid.

HP-HP-HP-HP

Harry wakes up screaming, a cold sweat running down his spine. He's breathing heavily and fighting someone. Two strong arms are holding him flat on his back, and Harry feels his panic growing.

"Harry, calm down, it's only me! Look at me, Harry, please!

-Draco?

-Yes, yes. Hush, Harry hush. It's over, come here."

Draco helps him to sit up, and the strong arms come around him, holding him, shielding him. Harry breathes in his friend's scent, so familiar and reassuring now. He feels himself calming down. It's the first time he forgets to cast the Silencing Charms before going to bed, but he was so upset after seeing Draco and the other man that he just forgot. Shit. The other man.

"Merlin, I'm sorry Draco. Were you… I mean… Er… Are you alone?

-What?

-I forgot to cast the Silencing Charms, I didn't want to wake you up… Especially if you… maybe… didn't come home alone?" Fuck, it's hard just to say it. What's wrong with him? "I mean…He's probably not happy to see you run and comfort your crazy roommate.

-What the bloody hell are you talking about?

-I saw you, at the party. With the auburn haired man? I thought that maybe…

-You thought I would bring home a man I met tonight? Someone I barely know? How stupid do you think I am? Of course I didn't. Franck is a nice bloke, and we did have a nice time talking tonight, but that's all. Besides… There's someone else.

-Oh." Oh, indeed. Shit.

"Stop talking nonsense and go back to sleep, Harry."

Draco actually climbs into bed beside Harry, and lies on his back, holding his hand.

When Harry wakes up a bit later, there's pale light pouring through the curtains. Harry's warm and comfortable, and he sighs with contentment. Until he realizes just how he's lying. He's curled around Draco, his chest to the taller man's back, an arm protectively thrown on his slim waist. He fights the need to snuggle closer, to nuzzle the blonde's neck. Or to do something equally stupid. He stands up carefully and leaves the room, trying to make the voice in his head just shut up. Because that annoying voice is telling him he knows exactly why he was so upset yesterday, so upset to see Draco with that man. It's not because he's worried for the blonde's safety. Well, it is, but not only. It's just that he doesn't want Draco to be with anyone. Anyone, except himself.

Which only leaves two minor problems. One, Harry is straight. He never has so much as looked at any man before. It's just… Draco. Two, the blonde isn't interested in Harry. Otherwise he would probably have done something by now, and he wouldn't have fled after their almost kiss. And, well, it's not as if Harry is a good catch anyway. Harry recalls the way Draco was behaving with the other man yesterday. He visibly appreciated the strong, experienced and confident man. The one Draco was actually interested in was probably like that. Not like Harry. Not a damaged and too small ex-war hero with more issues than anyone could bear.

Just when Harry thinks his life couldn't be more fucked-up, he's proved wrong. Lovely.


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Mild violence

**AN: **Here's the new chapter! Enjoy and review!

Harry takes a deep breath, trying to get his heart to beat at a more normal rate.

"Harry, it'll be alright. Teddy is a lovely kid – and you know I'm not particularly fond of children." Draco makes a face and Harry smiles a little. He tries to steel himself – how bad can it be to spend the afternoon with a toddler? Arms are suddenly around him, and his back collides with Draco's chest. The blonde whispers in his ear, and Harry tries not to melt against him.

"Harry, I'll be here with you. You'll see, you won't want to go back home this evening."

Draco releases him and steps in front of him. Harry tells himself he's relieved not to feel the other's man warmth behind him anymore. That's the word. Relieved.

"Besides, both Andromeda and I told Teddy that you would come on New Year's Day. You can't disappoint him, Harry. He's just a child.

-Bastard. You're trying to make me feel guilty.

-Does it work?

-Yes. I hate you."

Draco's eyes flash for a second, and then the familiar smirk is in place.

"So, we're off. And tonight we have to talk about your Christmas present. I don't think I can accept something so expensive.

-Well, your present wasn't exactly cheap either. Thanks, by the way.

-We could fly tomorrow, if you want. But back to the point, it's too much. I know what an international Portkey costs. But a Pass for a whole year?

-You can visit your mother as often as you want. It's important. If I still had my mother, well…"

Draco's eyes soften, and he nods with a small smile.

"Thanks, Harry. It was a very thoughtful gift.

-You're welcome. So, shall we?"

HP-HP-HP-HP

Draco was right. Teddy is an adorable toddler. He's constantly smiling and laughing, and he keeps changing his hair from black to almost white all afternoon. Andromeda watches them playing together with tears in her eyes and she thanks Harry as they leave. He promises to come back soon. As they exit the Floo in Harry's dining room, he realizes he feels almost whole. Almost happy. The small boy who keeps laughing and giving hugs has made him realize that there's still something he can do right. There's somewhere he's still needed. He has to be there for Teddy. He can do it, he's sure he can. He'll be a good godfather for him, he'll do his very best because Teddy deserves the best, as does every child.

"Harry? Are you alright? Salazar, you're crying? I'm sorry… Was it too much?

-No, no Draco. Well, yes, in a sense, it's too much, but it's good. I'm glad you make me go. I didn't realize what I was missing, I thought it was for the best, but now I see it's not. I can still be there for Teddy, even if I'm fucked-up, even if I'm not whole. I'm sorry, I don't make much sense. What I mean is… He still needs me, doesn't he?

-Yes he does. You'll be a wonderful godfather, you love kids."

Harry nods and wipes his tears. He's cried enough. He has Teddy, he has Ron and Hermione, and George, and Abelforth. He has Draco. Maybe he won't ever heal properly. Maybe he'll have nightmares for the rest of his life. But that doesn't mean he's not allowed to live. He smiles bravely at Draco, who's still watching him carefully.

"So, ready for tomorrow? I bet I'll still beat you to the snitch. Even if we hated each other, I must say I always looked forward to play against you. It was such a challenge.

-Yes. It wasn't so funny to lose every fucking time, though. I had to write my father afterwards, and, well." Draco shudders at the thought, and Harry feels like a prat.

"Shit Draco, I'm sorry. I didn't think of that.

-Don't be. Nothing I did was enough, anyway."

Harry calls Kreacher and asks for two cups of tea, and they sit in his couch.

"Want to talk about it?

-Not really. It's just…" Draco sighs, and closes his eyes for a moment. "As a kid, I wanted nothing more than please my father. Making him proud of me. Showing him that I was worthy of being a Malfoy. But... nothing was ever enough. I couldn't get better marks than Hermione. I couldn't beat you to the snitch. And second places were not good enough for my father. He's in jail now, but somehow… Somehow he's always there. Watching me. Making me feel unworthy. He sent me a letter, after the trial. He wrote that I was a disgrace. That he was ashamed to be my father. As if he was ever a father to me. He somehow learned that I prefer blokes, and he wrote that I couldn't even do that right…

-Well, he cannot harm you anymore. Don't let him win. You're a thousand times the man he is."

Draco smiles a little, and sips his tea.

"You know, that's what my mother told me. But… He still hurts me. I've got those damn scars to remind me every day of my life what a failure I am. I can't even date properly because I don't want anyone to see them. It will scare anyone. I can't stand to see the disgust and rejection that will be there. So I don't let anyone near me.

-You've showed me.

-You're different.

-How so?

-I don't know.

-I think you have too little faith in people.

-And I think you have too much faith in people.

-Do you want me to do something about your scars?

-What?"

Draco looks bewildered. Harry bits his lip, hoping he's not making a mistake.

"After the war, I discovered I was more powerful. That's why I'm able to do wandless magic. Once I got a better control of my magic, I was able to heal people… Ginny burned herself pretty badly once, and I healed her without even thinking of it. She hasn't got any scars. I could try, if you'd like."

Draco just looks at him, his mouth slightly open. Harry would laugh at the blonde's expression if he wasn't so worried. Then Draco slowly removes his shirt, exposing himself to Harry. There's such an amount of trust in his eyes that Harry feels a bit overwhelmed. He raises a hand, barely touching his friend's chest with his fingertips. Draco's skin is soft and rough, smooth and scared, pale and red. It's perfect.

"Draco… I'm not a hundred percent sure I can heal them. You should know… Well… They're not ugly, you know. I mean, what was done to you was ugly and sick, and I wish I could erase those memories. But the scars are just that: scars. They prove you're strong and brave. They show you're a survivor. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Are you ready?"

Harry puts both his hands above Draco's chest, closing his eyes to gather his magic, but Draco moves suddenly and pushes him away. He looks at Harry intently.

"Harry… Why are you trying to heal me if you're meaning what you said?

-Because that's just what I think. You deserve to be happy, to have someone in your life. And if the scars are holding you back, if they're making you insecure, then I'll try to do what I can about it." Even if that means Draco will find a lover and leave Grimmauld Place, one day. Harry knows he has to make a life on his own. Draco deserves to be happy, as happy as Hermione and Ron are, and Harry will be content to watch them all go on with their lives. And even if his chest aches a little at the thought, he knows they'll still be friends – he won't be left alone. Not really. Harry looks up to see Draco puts his shirt back.

"Draco?

-You're right, Harry. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

Harry smiles at the new confidence he reads in the grey eyes.

"You should ask Franck out for a date, you know. I mean… He seemed to be a decent guy. Or the person you said you were interested in, perhaps." Oh perfect, just perfect. What the fuck is he doing?

"Maybe Harry. Maybe. So, Quidditch tomorrow morning?

-Definitely."

Draco takes a step forward, kissing Harry's cheek softly before whispering "Happy new year" in his ear. Harry answers with a smile and hopes that this year will be happy for both of them. He can't deny that the sky is looking brighter now than it did last year.


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Mild violence

**AN :** And the 20th! R&R please - and please don't hit the Author for the cliffie ^^

By the end of January, Harry is getting so frustrated and confused that his magic is going out of control again. Things are going wonderfully well for him. He's still working with Kingsley and Hermione at the Ministry: he and Draco are now the official Minister's consultants. Their main goal is still to promote unity for the Wizarding World, but Harry's personal one is to do something for the orphanages' children. They are meeting Hermione and Ron at least twice a week, sometimes with George and Lee, too, and it's good to laugh and talk and do all those normal things with friends.

He has seen Teddy each week since New Year's Day. He cannot believe he lost so much time with the little boy: he's a wonderful child, as sweet and kind as Remus had been, and as full of life and joyful as Tonks had been. He's able to make Draco do almost anything without even trying, to the great amusement of Harry and Andromeda – who complains every time about the two of them spoiling the little boy but who Harry can see watching them fondly when she thinks they don't look.

So Harry guesses he has got his life back on track: work, friends, family.

There's just... Draco. They get along very well. They work together, they live together, they play Quidditch and have drinks and meals with their friends. Everything is going fine.

And everything is driving him crazy.

Harry makes his glass explode – it's the third one this week – and sighs deeply, trying to cast a cleaning charm as softly as he can. He ends up burning his shirt and half of chest and wants to scream in frustration.

"Fucking hell! Shit, shit, shit!

-Having fun, Harry?"

Draco is leaning casually in the doorframe, dressed in formal dark grey robes, looking thoroughly amused. Harry finally manages to heal himself, and cast Reparo on the broken glass.

"I just… Never mind. Are you going out?

To Harry's surprise, Draco blushes and seems to find the carpet's pattern suddenly highly interesting.

"Er, yes. I bumped into Franck yesterday and, well. I sort of agreed to have a drink with him tonight at this new pub in Diagon Alley.

-Oh! Good. Great. So, hum, you and Franck?" Fuck, fuck, fuck. He must get a hold on himself.

"We'll see, I suppose. Are you okay?

-Yes. I'm just…" going crazy? Fighting the urge to go and punch Franck? "having trouble with my magic.

-I thought you didn't have that problem anymore." Draco frowns and watches Harry's hands.

"Don't worry, it'll get better. I think. Anyway, have a nice time then.

-Thanks, Harry. Are you sure you'll be alright? I can cancel if you prefer."

Of course Harry would prefer. That doesn't mean it would be right.

"No, no, Draco. Go, Franck will probably worry if you're late."

Draco's frown deepens, but he nods and leaves. Hopefully Franck is a prat and Draco will hate him and come home soon. Harry feels guilty to have this idea. It's unfair and it's selfish. The repared glass on the coffee table begins to rattle and Harry shuts his eyes tight.

HP-HP-HP-HP

"Harry! Harry!"

Harry wakes up with a start. He has fallen asleep in the couch, and someone is calling him. He sits up and sees Ron's head in the flames of the fireplace, looking around him to find Harry.

"Ron? What's wrong?

-It's Draco. Hurry up. You can Floo directly to George's apartment."

Ron's head disappears and Harry takes Floo powder with a shaking hand, trying not to let his mind produce horrifying images of Draco by itself.

Ron waits for him in front of George's fireplace, in his Auror's robes and wand drawn. He's pale and Harry's worry increases tenfold.

"Harry, I've got bad news. We were called a few minutes ago for a drunken fight in this new pub, the Stardust. But when we got in… It wasn't a drunken fight at all.

-What happened? Where's Draco? He went there to meet someone tonight. Franck something.

-Harry… He's been taken. It was a trap, there were apparently several people waiting for him. Some people in the pub tried to help, and the bartender called the Auror Department, but it was too late. They were all gone when we got there. We're working on the magical signatures and trying to get all the information we can from the witnesses. I thought you would want to see the place and work with me.

-We have to find him, Ron. If he's hurt or-… Merlin…

-We'll find him, mate. Come on, let's go."

The pub is a mess. There's broken glass and spilled beverages everywhere. From what they can learn from the bartender and the patrons, Draco met an auburn-haired man in the pub – Franck – and the two of them talked a little before heading to a small table in a quiet corner. After a few minutes, two other men came in, with black cloaks, hoods over their faces. They came behind Draco, and Franck said something to the blonde that made him stand up and draw his wand, but the two men in black had hold him back. They had all disappeared – probably thanks to a Portkey – as some of the pub's patrons were trying to get them to release Draco.

Harry's getting restless – none of that is really helping them. Hermione suddenly comes in, looking frantically around her, her bushy hair even messier than usual.

"Oh Harry, here you are! Ron, come on, I need to talk to the two of you. Now!"

The three of them exit the pub, and Hermione leads them to a dark corner of the streets.

"Okay, George called me and explained what happened. Harry, are you alright? You need to keep a clear head, okay?

-I'll try. What did you want to tell us?

-After what happened in Hogsmead… Well… I might have done something not exactly legal.

-Hermione?" Ron's looking both impressed and concerned. "What the hell did you do?

-Nothing more than I've already done on you, Ron.

-What?

-You're an Auror! I'm constantly worried about you! So, well… I put a charm on you. And after the Hogmead's attack on Harry and Draco, I decided to do the same on them.

-Hermione? What kind of charm did you use?

-Well…I sort of created it. It combines a basic Tracking Spell with a complex Monitoring Charms. It allows me to go where you are and to know if you're injured, or sick, or… well. Anyway, we can go where Draco is. And he's weak.

-Hermione, you're brilliant, you know that?" Ron's smiling broadly at his girlfriend and the bushy haired girl blushes. Ron clears his throat and asks "So, where is he?"

Hermione takes a golden ring out of her bag.

"That's Draco's charmed ring. You see that the dot is on "badly injured". We must hurry up. If one of us puts the ring on, it will take him where Draco is. But I've got no means to know beforehand where he is or with whom. And the ring can bring only one of us."

Harry takes the ring slowly. There are several words, from "safe" to "dead". A small dot is currently in front of "badly injured". He feels dread slowly filling his heart.

"So, how are we doing this? One of us could go and check and then- no, Harry, wait, what are you-"

Harry slips the ring on his middle finger and feels the weird tug in his belly, and the worried faces of his friends disappear.


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Mild violence

**AN : Thanks for your wonderful reviews! **New chapter for you! After this one, probably only two or three left... Anyway, enjoy this one and review, please!

The first thing Harry sees is Draco. He's only a few feet away from him, bound to one of the high pillars of what looks like an old and abandoned warehouse. Grey light is coming from small and dirty windows, not enough for Harry to see Draco's expression, but enough to see the blood on his chest and legs. The blonde is bare from the waist up, and his trousers are torn in several places. His right thigh seems badly wounded, like it's missing a piece of skin actually. Harry swallows to force the bile back in his stomach. He must think quickly and act as quickly if he wants to get Draco out of here alive.

He's lucky, though. Draco's ring has brought him in the warehouse, behind another pillar, so that he can watch what's happening without being seen. Two men are in front of Draco, dressed in black cloaks and wands drawn. Probably the two wizards who took Draco in the pub. They both seem oddly familiar to Harry, even from behind. Franck is nowhere to be seen.

"So, Draco, where's your hero?

-Fuck off, Zabini" Draco spats angrily.

Zabini? Blaise Zabini? Yes, that's why the taller man seems familiar. And the other one is rather bulky, with a bull-like neck. Goyle?

"I wasn't sure you would accept going out with Franck. So, what happened? Did the Boy Who Lived had enough? Answer, Draco! Crucio!"

Draco's body is shuddering helplessly, and Harry knows he must be clenching his jaw and grit his teeth to avoid screaming in pain. When the curse ends, Harry hears the raging breathing and feels his magic pulsing around him, urging him to release it. He tries to focus on Draco and to strike at the best moment.

"So, how did you do it? Making him trust you, I mean? Everybody knows you're a fucking traitor and a coward, Draco.

-Go to hell, Zabini.

-Hoping Potter will save you, like he did that night in Hogwarts? Leaving Vincent to die, but saving you, you fucking traitor!

-Goyle, you're even stupider than you were in school. I'm impressed.

-Shut up!

-You want me to talk or to shut up? Make up your mind, I haven't all day."

Harry cannot help but grin a little. Draco's not lost his wit, which is a good sign.

"It would actually be a good surprise to see Potter come to your rescue. I'd like to have fun with him once I'm done with you. I bet you're begging him to come now, aren't you, Draco?

-I actually wish he won't. But I don't expect you to understand friendship, Zabini.

-Friendship? Really? You think you're his friend?

-I don't care what you think.

-No, no, Draco, I find this kind of funny. You think the Boy Who Lived, hero of the Wizarding World, wants to be friend with you? When he could ask anything from anyone? How stupid are you? I think he must find you amusing, or maybe you something like a project for him. Until he's tired of you. Or is it something else? How far are you willing to go to buy yourself a new respectability, Draco?

-I. Don't. Care. What. You. Think." The words are slowly spoken, and Draco's steadily looking at Zabini.

"Crucio!" The curse hit Draco in the chest, and after a few seconds, the blonde's head falls forward, and Harry knows he has lost consciousness. His magic has suddenly a life of its own, flaring around him wildly as he steps out of the shadows and begins to run.

Two rays of dark red light come out of his hands as he extends his arms before him, hitting Zabini and Goyle in the back of their heads. They come to the ground as in slow-motion, and Harry hurries to reach Draco.

The ropes that hold him bound to the pillar are so tight that they have dug into the skin, making his wrists and ankles bleed. Harry touches them to free the blonde, and gather him in his arms. The limp body of Draco is covered in blood, and his thigh is looking worse that it did from a distance. It looks like it's missing not only skin, but the muscle as well. Harry would like to apparate them both directly in St Mungo's but he's sure that Draco is in no condition for that. He shuts his eyes tight, trying to focus in order to get enough control of his magic to heal Draco.

"Hold on, Draco, please hold on."

The magic flows out of him, a shimmering haze that covers Draco like a protective blanket. Harry goes on and on, praying to Merlin, Salazar and God that it will be enough. Just as he begins to feel light-headed from the intensity of the healing, Draco moves a little in his arms.

"Draco? Draco, can you hear me?

-Harry?

-Oh Merlin, Draco…" Harry takes his friend higher in his arms, tucking the blonde's head in the crook of his neck. He sends a Patronus to Ron, and stands up to apparate in St Mungos.

"Harry… Smell good. Like home" Draco whispers feebly, nuzzling the dark haired man's neck.

Harry's heart misses a beat, and he has to breathe deeply a few times before apparating away.

HP-HP-HP-HP

Harry is pacing restlessly in front of the glass doors that lead to the room where Draco's been taken care of. He jumps when a hand falls on his shoulder. Ron smiles gently at him.

"It's just me, Harry. We've got Zabini and Goyle. Can't believe they'd do that to their own friend.

-They're not his friends. They never were.

-Guess not. How is he?

-I don't know. I did what I could, but there was so much blood, and I'm not sure it was enough."

Draco's last words keep playing in his head. _Smell good. Like home_. Fuck.

"Hey, mate. You did well. You took him out of there, healed him, and brought him here. Trust the Healers. Hell, trust Draco. The insufferable git wouldn't die so easily.

-Probably not.

-See? What about a cup of tea? I could use one."

Harry nods numbly and follows his red haired friend through the white hallways, barely hearing what Ron says. He burns his tongue with a too bitter tea, speaks a little more with Ron before his friend has to come back home – Hermione is probably worried and she couldn't leave to join them, since she has to take care of Rose.

So Harry is leaving to pace again in front of those damn doors, ready to jump on every Healer who would get out. After what seems like hours, a small woman with steel grey hair and bright blue eyes steps boldly in front of him, apparently not impressed at all by the Savior in the flesh.

"Mr Potter? Come with me, Mr Malfoy wants to see you.

-He's awake?

-Yes. We did our best. He will recover quickly, except maybe for his right leg. But thanks to your quick healing, everything else will be okay. He's weak and a bit shocked, but he's a strong young man. He'll be just fine.

-Thank Merlin.

-I doubt Merlin has anything to do with it. You saved him. Here we are. Not more than a few minutes, Mr Potter. He needs to rest as much as possible. Have a nice day, Mr Potter."

And with that, she's gone. And Harry is standing in front of a door, again.


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Mild violence

**AN: Drarry4eva **pointed out that I wasn't writing the dialogs properly - something about quotation marks and hyphens. I actually had to search on the internet to understand what you were talking about! I'm french, and in my language dialogs are written this way: quotation marks at the beginning and the end of dialog, and hyphens each time a new speaker talks. So, I'm sorry if this was confusing for some of you. I'll try to punctuate the English way as of now, I'm sorry if I sometimes slip back to the French punctuation!

And now the new chapter! Thanks for your much appreciated reviews! It makes me feel giddy just to think about it ^^ ! **And happy new year to all of you!**

Draco's looking pale and vulnerable, in this white hospital bed, his right leg bandaged and propped up on several pillows. His lids are closed, and Harry nearly closes the door again, but then the grey and intense gaze is on him, and he attempts a smile.

"Hey."

"Hey. Saved me again, didn't you?"

"Well… You said you would redecorate the dining room."

Draco chuckles at that, a soft sound that warms Harry. He sits carefully on the bed, watching the way Draco turns slightly away, and the way his hands are clenched in the bed sheets.

"How do you feel?"

"Like shit. Like an idiot. I should have known… They hired Franck. Did you know? They paid him to flirt with me and ask me out. It was all an act."

Draco seems suddenly older, there are lines around his eyes that Harry has never seen before. He feels ill just thinking how they tricked Draco. He tries to think of something to say, but Draco has closed his eyes and is talking again.

"They wanted to kill me. They thought it was unfair that I could have a new life when they did not. I would have helped them, Harry. If only they'd asked… I tried to write to Greg a few months ago, but he never replied. And… They were hoping to get you, too."

"It's over now. Ron just told me the Aurors got Goyle and Zabini. They're still searching for Franck, though. But they'll get him too, Ron won't rest until they're all in jail. I trust him."

"You trust everybody."

"I don't. I only trust my friends, and you know there are not many of them."

"I was hoping you wouldn't come to my rescue. I didn't want them to hurt you. But when I woke up and felt you holding me… I was so relieved. I owe you another life-debt."

"There's no such thing between friends. Do you want me to call someone? Your mother, or, er… someone else perhaps?"

"No… I don't want Mother to worry. I'll fire-call her in a few days."

"Okay. You told me… You told me you were interested in someone. Do you… I mean… Do you want to see him? I could talk to that healer of yours so that you get another visit – she reminds me of Minerva, actually, I feel like a twelve years-old schoolboy when she talks to me… Erm, yes, so… Want me to call someone?"

"No. No, Harry, that won't be necessary."

Draco is looking at him with this intense gaze of him again, making Harry want to flee – or to lean forward and touch the blonde's lips with his. That's it. He's insane. He's in love with Draco. Hopelessly in love. Fucking hell.

"Oh. Okay. I guess I'll let you rest then, before your dragon-like healer hexes me."

"I meant it, you know."

"What?"

"You smell like home. Good night, Harry."

HP-HP-HP-HP

It's been four days since Draco came home, after a whole week in hospital. As Healer Stone said, all wounds have healed well, except for his thigh. The muscle and skin have been regrown, but Draco still limps slightly, and there's little hope that he will recover fully. Either way, he's lucky to be alive – and to walk at all. The blonde refused to testify at Zabini's and Goyle's trial – Franck is still on the run, and they don't know what his last name his, or if he wore Glamour Charms. Harry and Ron testified, as well as the bartender and a few patrons of the Stardust. They're both locked in Azkaban for the rest of their lives.

The verdict didn't bring Draco any joy or relief. Or any emotion at all. He barely speaks since he's back, sometimes staring blankly into the fireplace for hours while he's half sitting, half lying in the couch. Even Ron worries about him – which is saying something.  
It's Friday evening, and Harry finds his friend once again in the couch.

"Draco? You have to talk to me. This can't go on like this."

"I'm fine, Harry."

"No you're not!" Harry feels his anger growing dangerously. He tries to breathe deeply through his nose, focusing on what he wants to say.

"Look, I've had an idea. I've had a job proposition from the American Aurors. New York, actually. And… I'd like to say yes. I can't do anything here, with all that Savior shit, and, well."

"I'll be gone tomorrow. I suppose you're selling the house."

"What? No, I won't sell the house. I'll give it to Ron and Hermione. Their flat is small and with Rose, they'll need the space. But, anyway, I think you should come with me."

"What?"  
It's the first time in days that Draco looks truly interested in something Harry says. The dark haired man nearly sighs with relief.

"It's not safe for us here. And we're not allowed to have a normal life. We've done what we could, and Hermione and Kingsley will continue to work on that, but… I think we should leave. I've found a Potion Master in New York. He's looking for an apprentice, he knew Snape and he's willing to teach you. I would organize Portkey arrangements for France or England whenever you'll like."

"And your friends?"

"We'll visit them, and they'll come visit us as well. I know…" Shit, here comes the hard part. Harry steels himself. "I know there's someone you, well, like here. But I'm sure he will understand, and if not, then he doesn't deserve you anyway." Harry knows he's scowling, but he cannot help it. "We could start a new life, meet new people, I'm sure you'll find someone." Harry tells the voice that's screaming "Me" very loudly in his head to just shut up.

Draco stares at him so long that Harry begins to think it was a huge mistake.

"Draco? What do you think?"

"You would leave everything behind? And you would bring me in your luggage?"

"Yes. I think that's what we both need. I can't stand to see you like that anymore. And I need a new challenge, I need to do something with my life." And he needs a job to avoid thinking of Draco all day long. It's becoming bloody disturbing. "I know I'm not the perfect roommate, but I think we could share a flat for a while, until we're settled."

"You're really oblivious, aren't you?"

"What?"

Draco shakes his head in disbelief, and there's the tiniest smirk on his face. Harry didn't think he would be glad to see it one day, but he is. Draco stands up and limps until he's just a few inches away from Harry, who feels very uncomfortable. And when has it become so hot in there?

But then Draco crashes his lips to his own, and Harry forgets how to think. Draco draws back an instant, searching for something on Harry's face, and he cups his face gently with both hands.

"It was me?"

"It's always been you, Harry."

"Shit. I've been an idiot".

"I never thought you were particularly smart."

"Well, you're enough for the both of us."

And with that he kisses Draco, whose hands slid in his unruly hair. Harry's arms come around the blonde's waist, to steady them both, because it's nearly too much. It's not perfect, because their teeth clash and Harry's sure it's not supposed to be so wet, and it's a bit awkward still, but Merlin, it feels good all the same. Harry drives them backwards until they hit the couch, and he slowly sits down, and Draco straddles his lap, carefully folding his injured leg. They're kissing and holding each other for a while, and then Draco slowly kisses his way down Harry's neck and Harry's hands are under the blonde's shirt. Draco moans softly at the tentative touch, driving his hips forward.

All of a sudden it becomes a bit scary for Harry, because he realizes they're both hard and panting and moaning and it's real.

"I've no idea what I'm doing. I've never been with a man before." He whispers in Draco's ear, hoping to convey his worry without breaking the moment.

"Then it'll be a new experience for both of us." Draco speaks against his skin, and Harry needs a few seconds to proceed what he has said.

"What?"

"I've never trusted anyone enough for that."

Draco suddenly looks unsure of himself, with his hands clenched a little too tightly on Harry's shoulders and the slight blush on his cheeks. Harry must have been silent too long, because the blonde stiffens and starts to move away. Harry tightens his hold, and he knows he grins like an idiot.

"Then we'll learn together."

They will. Because it feels like home, it smells like home. This must be home.


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Mild violence

**AN: **I've had a request for a Draco's POV chapter from one of my reviewer, and after a lot of thinking I agree with her: it's a good idea, especially since it's the last chapter – there will only be an epilogue after that. So, here you are, enjoy!

Draco lays awake for a long time. He honestly cannot believe it. Harry is curled on his side, the messy black haired head lying on Draco's chest, the soft breathing tickling his pale skin. Harry. How anyone can be that kind and caring after such a shitty life is beyond him. But that's why he loves Harry so much. And Harry likes him, Harry wants him – he told him so, just a few hours ago, in a deep and husky voice that makes Draco shiver just thinking about it. Draco closes his eyes and remembers all the little touches, the passionate kisses, the awkward but tenders moments, too. The feel of skin on skin, Harry's slightly darker shade over his own alabaster one, and the beautiful green eyes on him all the time, as if Draco was his whole world, as if nothing else was important. As he has expected it, Harry has been wonderful, always taking care of Draco before thinking of himself. That's what Harry does. And that's why he needs someone who thinks of him first. Draco can do that. He will do it. He will ensure that Harry is properly taken care of, that he never feels alone anymore, that he feels loved and wanted and needed. And maybe one day, Harry will love him too. But for now, it's enough. It's more than enough, it's more than Draco deserves, and he will do his best to keep it. He will do his best to be worthy of Harry.

His lover sighs on his chest, a contented and sated sound that makes Draco grin. He drags his finders through the impossible hair, and tries to remember a moment where he has felt more at peace than now. He falls asleep before he can find one.

HP-HP-HP-HP

Draco wakes up with the feeling that he's being watched. He raises his head, a bit worried to feel that he's naked under the sheets – he never sleeps in the nude. But then he meets green eyes, and everything is okay. Harry smiles gently and takes him in his strong arms, and Draco has the feeling his heart might explode – it's definitely not used to so many intense emotions.

"I should have known you would like to cuddle." Draco snorts and feels Harry stop to breathe, staying still and stiff for a moment before pulling away, hurt written all over his face. Draco wants to kick himself.

"I'm sorry, I thought… I'm sorry."

"Harry, stop looking like a lost kitten. I actually like that."

"You do?"

Draco has to roll his eyes. How Harry cannot see that Draco is completely, utterly lost?

"Of course, you idiot. Besides, you're quite warm. Come here, cuddling boy."

Harry's smile makes Draco's chest ache and he swears to himself that he will do everything he can to put that smile on the brunet's handsome face every day. Every fucking day, as long as Harry wants him to stay. They cuddle and snog a little, and then Harry's features become serious.

"Draco… Will you come with me, then?"

"You don't even have to ask, Harry. I'll follow you everywhere." Fuck, what the hell is he saying? He must remember not to talk to Harry when they're both naked and making out like teenagers. Draco winces and risks a look at Harry. Who's looking like Christmas has come early.

"It's settled then. We're leaving next week. I'll write to the New York Aurors Departement, and you should write to your potions master, too. And I should probably call Ron and Hermione to-"

"Calm down, you're going to have a seizure. How you survive with such a high blood pressure is a mystery. Breakfast first. Then we'll begin planning."

Harry grins and kisses him. Breakfast can wait, Draco supposes.

HP-HP-HP-HP

Draco wakes up alone and sighs. He's not even surprised. It's Sunday, after all, and they're leaving tomorrow. He dresses quickly and exits the quiet house to apparate directly in Hogsmead. The weather is still cold, and he shivers in spite of his travel cloak. He walks briskly in the dark streets to reach the cemetery, and finally spots Harry in front of Severus' tombstone. He stays back a little, to watch the man he loves.

Harry's standing, hands in his coat's pockets, Draco's scarf around his neck. He's talking softly, and Draco has to come nearer to understand the words.

"Guess it's a good thing we're leaving… It's hard to do so. To leave you, and Albus, and the others. But it's time, isn't it? And I'm not alone, Draco's coming with me." Harry chuckles a little. "I think you'd be horrified to know about Draco and I. But it makes sense, in a way. And I swear I'll take care of him. I know you cared about him, you protected him as much as you protected me."

Harry wipes his right cheek with the back of his hand, and Draco cannot bear it anymore, so he walks the few steps left between them and takes the other man in his arms from behind, just like he knows Harry likes it, and puts his chin on the strong shoulder.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Did you say your goodbyes?"

"Yes."

"That's a good thing, Harry. Do you want to stay alone?"

"No. I'm done here, I think." Harry turns around in Draco's arms, smiling bravely in spite of his haunted eyes. "They'll stay with me anyway."

"Yes Harry, they will. Always." Harry nods and raises his hand to cup Draco's jaw, and there's so much tenderness in the gesture that Draco feels like crying.

"We'll be fine. It's a new life for us. And we're together. It'll be alright."

"Yes, it'll be alright. Harry…" He has to say it. He hopes it won't ruin everything, but there's no way he can keep it inside anymore. "I know it's too soon, and I know you don't feel the same, but I want you to know anyway… I love you, Harry. And yes, you definitely have a very bad influence on me. Maybe I need to get checked in St Mungo's for a Gryffindor disease."

Harry doesn't answer, but he raises his head to kiss him deeply, and then he takes Draco's hand to leave the cemetery.

Draco turns away briefly to mouth "thank you" to Severus' tombstone. The sky is grey and heavy above them, but they'll soon see the sky of New York, and they'll be alright.


	24. Epilogue

**Disclaimer :** I do not own Harry Potter, and I'm not J.K. Rowling, obviously, but thanks for asking.

**Warnings:** Slash (nothing too graphic) / Mild violence

Harry hears Draco's uneven steps in the living room. He gets out of bed, stretching a little and dragging a tee-shirt over his head. The night has been very bad, with Draco waking up several times screaming and sweating, and he must have finally risen early. When he opens the door, he sees Draco standing in front of the big window, a steaming mug in his hand. He's only wearing black pants, and Harry is glad that the blond feels more self-confident now. Harry thinks smugly that it might partly be because of his constant worshipping of Draco's body. And fuck him, but he's beautiful, standing here in the warm light of the morning sun, half naked and all lean and pale. But things are about to change.

It's been three months since they began their new life. Three wonderful months, filled with challenging jobs and love and all the excitement that comes with discovering a new town, a new country. A new partner, too. Harry loves his new job – he's been affected in a young and friendly team, where he's considered as no more or less than a normal Auror. The American Wizarding World has of course heard of him, seen photographs and read articles about the war, but it's still quite different. Most of time people don't really know who he is, and he's usually not recognized in the streets of Wizarding New York – which is rather an appreciated improvement. Draco is studying quite hard with his Potion Master, often muttering to himself on evenings about potions and ingredients which Harry has never even heard of.

He missed Hermione, Ron, George, Lee, and Abelforth, even if they have made a few new friends here. They wouldn't miss their monthly Portkey to London for anything. Teddy has come a few times with Andromeda, too.

Teddy. Tomorrow he'll come and this time he'll stay. Andromeda has asked Harry if he would like to become his guardian – she isn't so young anymore and she feels the little boy would be happier with him and Draco in New York. The American society isn't as prejudiced over werewolves as the English society is, and it will probably make things easier for Teddy in school. Andromeda will come and visit him as often as she wants, and Teddy will stay to her house every month when they'll come back to England. That's why things need to change between Draco and him. And Harry wants to do it now, before his courage fades away.

Harry chuckles inwardly and tries to walk as quietly as possible.

"I heard you, Harry. It's a wonder they accepted you in the Auror Program. You're making more noise than me, which is an achievement in itself, since I'm the one with a limp."

Harry scowls. Draco still limps, and will probably for the rest of his life. He never complains about it. He never complains about anything, now that Harry thinks of it.

"And don't pout. No boyfriend of mine will have wrinkles before his thirties."

"That's actually fine with me. I don't want to be your boyfriend anymore, Draco."

The slim and pale shoulders stiffen slightly, and Draco doesn't turn around to look at Harry.

"Draco… It's been wonderful, just the two of us like that, but… Now that Teddy comes to live here, I want more. I want a family."

Harry's wide smile disappears when Draco slowly moves to face him. The blonde looks crestfallen, his grey eyes filled with pain and sadness. And something else, too. Resignation? What is this about now?

"Draco?"

"It's alright, Harry. I understand. I…" Draco closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, his face is carefully blank, eyes cold and distant. "I can't say I'm surprised."

"You're not? You… you already knew?" Shit. Draco's not looking like he's going to accept. Panic slowly overwhelms Harry. Has he moved too fast?

"It was just a matter of time. Have you already met the girl? Is she an Auror, too?"

"What? Wait, what are you-"

"I think I'll leave now, Harry. Thank you for all you've done for me."

Draco takes only on step before Harry stops him, clenching his hands on the slim shoulders. Draco glares at him, but Harry will not let him leave. It has gone horribly wrong, but if he can only explain…

"Wait. I think you misunderstood me. Or maybe it came out wrong, I'm not good with words. I said I didn't want you to be my boyfriend anymore-"

"I think I get that."

"Will you just shut up and let me talk? What I meant was that I want a family. I never had one, and with Teddy, I thought I could have that. With you, Draco. I want a family with you. I've already filled the forms to adopt a child from one of these London orphanages, actually. So, no, I don't want you to be my boyfriend. I want you to be my husband, if you'll have me."

Draco doesn't say anything for a long time. He puts his hands on Harry's wrists, as if to steady himself.

"You… Do you actually… I mean…"

Harry cannot resist teasing Draco.

"How very articulate of you, dear. Look, if you need time to think about it, I understand."

"I don't need time." Draco seems to have recovered from the shock. "I thought… I thought you were leaving me for some girl you've met… I thought you finally realized you could have anyone."

"I don't want anyone. I want you. We're fucked-up and we fight and have awful nightmares, and I'm as paranoid as you're distrustful, but… we're good together. More than good. I know I should have said it earlier and I don't know why I didn't, but, anyway… I'm love with you, Draco. I've been for a very long time, even before we got together, to be honest. So, will you marry me?"

"You love me?" Draco's voice is a whisper, a beautiful whisper full of hope and doubt.

"Yes I love you. And I can't wait to have Teddy with us, and maybe other children if you agree… I. Love. You."

"Then we need to shop. We need bonding rings and robes. And-"

"Relax, Draco. We have plenty of time to plan it all. We have the rest of our life together."

"Yes. We do."

And they watch the sun rise above New York, wrapped in each other warmth, and it smells like tea and sandalwood and parchment. It smells like home.

They're home. Finally.

THE END.

**AN: It's over! I feel sad and content at the same time! I'd like to thank all my reviewers and followers, and all the people who favorited my story. It's been an amazing journey thanks to you, your support, your suggestions and kind words, especially since it was my first HP story, and my first attempt to write in English. I definitely will write a new story soon - I actually have two ideas, one more HP/DM and one SS/OC. In the meantime, take care of yourselves, and remember you're all gorgeous and wonderful individuals - give yourself the best, you deserve it.**


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